Robbie to the Rescue

I always enjoy Friday evenings, the weekend stretches before us and I can look forward to not getting up at the crack of dawn. We had not been home for very long when the phone rang with an SOS for Robbie. My friend Marion was having problems with her router and she needed to borrow Robbie for an hour or two. After our meal I dropped Robbie at her house, which is not far from where we live, that left me free to pop to the supermarket and then to get on with some cooking. I was expecting Robbie to take ages because Marion's computer has proved stubborn in the past. I was wrong, it only took him just over an hour, so when he rang I was in the middle of cooking. I was making cakes for Robbie, as requested. When I collected him he emerged from Marion's house clutching a tin full of cakes! There is something about Robbie that makes people want to feed him, its the only way I know to stop him talking so perhaps it isn't so surprising.

Saturday morning is always a time for random statements from Robbie and this morning was no exception. After we had almost had an argument about the London Mayoral elections, Robbie cuddled up to me and announced that he was missing his contact from Network Rail at Leeds. She is off sick and Robbie said it doesn't feel right not having her at the end of the phone. Oddly enough I hadn't planned to spend my extra hour or so in bed talking about Network Rail, but it seems as if work is never far from Robbie's mind.

We had the usual argument in the supermarket when Robbie repacked the trolley just to prove that he was in control. I put it back how I wanted it and he stomped towards the cat food telling me that I could keep the trolley. I took him at his word but within seconds he was back to take control once more. When we got home again he was doing a lot of clattering around and sighing in the kitchen so I left him to it. I ploughed my way through the ironing, so Sam and Robbie have another weeks supply of ironed shirts - if I had my way men would be banned from wearing shirts!!

Finally I had finished the ironing, sorted out the cat tray and supervised Sam cleaning out his guinea pig. I sat down for a well earned rest while watching I'd Do Anything - did I mention before that Sam had to point out to me the irony of Graham Norton searching for a Nancy! I was enjoying the show when Robbie, who is not the worlds most effective window, stood between me and the screen and began a detailed account of the freezer contents and a convoluted explanation of the way he had reorganised the storage space. He got really cross when I told him to go away and leave me to enjoy the television. He is a control freak when it comes to the fridge and freezer, he even leaves post it notes to tell people what to eat first! I don't know why he bothers because we all do as we like anyway. Why does he have to be so exhausting?