Robbie arrived home at 10pm last night, it had been a sad day and he was tired, but he had met up with many family members that he doesn't see very often. He said that after the funeral they were chatting about his uncle and the subject of hoarding cropped up, apparently he had a bit of a reputation for hoarding. Then the subject turned to Robbie's grandad and the marathon task of clearing his loft after he died. Apparently his grandad bought tools and paint brushes by the half dozen and squirreled the surplus items away in the loft because 'you never know when things like that will come in handy'. Of course it wasn't just tools, there were magazines and all sorts of odds and ends - so now I know where Robbie gets it from. Why did he have to inherit the hoarding trait, why couldn't he inherit the diy gene that his grandad, dad and uncles all shared!
As soon as Robbie got into the car I could tell he had been something with a very strong smell, at first he said it was a Subway roll, but then he remembered that he had eaten garlic mushrooms and scones (now there's a combination!). I didn't enquire further, I just tried not to breathe! He mentioned that he'd had a few pints (I already knew, I could smell it), he didn't too keen to define 'few' but he finally decided that it must have been three pints. I wasn't convinced by his maths but I knew it spelled trouble because he isn't used to it and it sends him to sleep. Sure enough he sat at the table with his laptop and before long he was sound asleep and leaning at a precarious angle. I kept waking him up but I couldn't make him go to bed so I gave up and left him downstairs. He came to bed at 3.30am after the dog woke him up!
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