Huck ate about seven meals a day while we were on vacation. Mostly this was the fault of the Blonde Posse (my mother, sisters, grandmother, aunt, and cousins) that he had wrapped around his little finger (seriously, they're all platinum blonde at darkest), but he was asking for food, and larger amounts of food, much more often than at home.
Kinda obvious what the problem was, right?
Here at home, we have a large mudroom/laundry room/pantry off the kitchen. I watched Huckle wander in and out of there no less than twenty times today, take a look around, and then continue with whatever he'd been doing.
No pantry in the vacation houses, just cabinets above the counters. No way to survey the supply, no way to know that there'd be more, no way for him to reassure himself that he'd be fed.
Next time, the pots and pans get moved out of one lower cabinet and it gets restocked with applesauce, granola bars, bananas, all his snacks.