And So To Bed

You know that lovely feeling when you settle down in bed and pull the coves around you ready for sleep? Well it doesn't last long with Robbie around! Last night I was just ready for sleep when Robbie bounced in like Tigger, giving a running commentary along the way. He let all the heat out when he got into bed, then I couldn't get warm again because he kept doing that 'Kenny Everett' thing where he waves his legs around like a dying fly. I was wondering if a couple of bricks in the duvet cover would solve the problem when he settled down and started to list all the railway magazines produced in the UK. It was 2am and I wasn't really interested, but I got all the information, date started, frequency of publication, publisher, price, size, and details of regular content. He went on and on until he got back to the pressing problem of the size change of the Rail Express, I couldn't stand any more so I used the only weapon available to me – I recited poetry to him! My first choice, The Ning Nang Nong by Spike Milligan just made him laugh, so I knew I had to bring out the 'big guns'. Next came Nicholas Nye by Walter de la Mare, that left him quietly confused, so I plunged in with On The Loss of the Royal George by William Cowper. That did the trick, he was begging for mercy. I threatened him with every verse of the Pied Piper of Hamelin by Robert Browning, if I heard one more word about trains, so he made the wise decision to turn over and go to sleep.