After my friend visited overnight with her teenage son. SH had a meeting and didn't have breakfast with us.
SH [on the phone]: Is there any of that breakfast sausage left? (The sausage from my uncle, the sausage maker extraordinaire.)
Me: What do you think?
SH: I think no.
Me: You would be correct.
SH: I was a teenager once. I remember.
Not that I minded at all that Teenage Son ate the sausages. I offered them to him. Each time I asked if he wanted more, he said, "Yes, ma'am." He didn't ask for more. He only took what was offered. I kept asking until they were gone. He was my guest.