Clothes make the man. Naked people have little or no influence on society - Mark Twain

My mum is an amazing woman. She loves clothes and at 80 she likes nothing better than a shopping trip with her granddaughters. When it comes to clothes shopping she loves fashion and she shops enthusiastically, she has plenty of stamina and she will happily shop all day. She likes bright cheerful colours, high shoes and matching accessories. She gave up on my fashion sense years ago; she respects my right to wear more sober styles and very little make up but just occasionally she will tell me "you can wear that when you are dead!" 

My mum finds Robbie's approach to fashion rather surprising, but she supports his right to express his individuality and to wear bright colours - but perhaps not all at once! They often chat about clothes and shoes and Robbie likes nothing better than flicking through her collection of catalogues to 'window shop'. Earlier this week he was flicking through her cotton traders catalogue and showing me the many things that he would like when suddenly he emitted a groan of delight. He said "oh yes, they would look great with some bright contrasting boots, I really want them" He thrust the catalogue in front of me to reveal that 'they' were a pair of bright red trousers. I gave him a steady stare trying to work out if he was serious - he was! He looked to my mum for support but she tactfully said there may not be many opportunities to wear red trousers. I told him that it would be a mistake, he would look like Santa on his day off - or a Smurf!! I just hope that he will see sense.

Things That Go Chomp in the Night

Robbie came very close to being harmed a few nights ago. I should be used to him testing my tolerance to the limit, but when he wakes me up at night he really is asking for trouble. Last Friday I wet to bed at around midnight and Robbie promised that he would not be far behind. I listened to the radio for a little while, but when it became clear that Robbie was not going to turn up any time soon, I turned off the light, settled down and went to sleep.

Much later I was woken by the sound of the bedroom door bursting open and Robbie clomping in talking (to himself or to his imaginary friend) about pants. I reluctantly opened one eye to look at the alarm clock, it was past 2am and Robbie was deciding what pants he wanted to wear in the morning. I closed my eye again and decided to be asleep, it didn't seem to bother him because he was going to talk to me anyway. The subject changed from pants to delayed trains and I knew that 'staying asleep' was the right decision.

Suddenly there was a big thump as a heavy object landed on the bed next to me, it made me jump and I gave up on the idea of 'staying asleep'. I rolled over to find that the Argos catalogue was next to me on the bed. At about the same time Robbie launched himself onto the bed and then spent what felt like hours beating his pillows and flapping the duvet around. I was getting seriously irritated and I was already planning cruel and unusual punishments, but he was totally oblivious. He propped his pillows up against the headboard unwrapped a toffee picked up the Argos catalogue and turned on the light. That was the final straw, I found my voice and told him in no uncertain terms to turn off the light. He refused, so I turned it off myself. He put it back on saying that 20 minutes with the Argos catalogue wasn't much to ask. I sat up and informed him that aggressive toffee chewing and browsing catalogues was NOT a bedroom activity especially at past 2am! I gave him a choice, either read and chew in the bathroom or stop being an idiot and go to sleep. Reluctantly he chose the latter, with a look of defeat he turned off the light, snuggled down and was instantly asleep. I was too angry to sleep, the chomping had been replaced with strange snoring noises like the sound of a balloon deflating!

Night Terrors

Yesterday when I woke up in the morning I had a memory of waking up and feeling very frightened in the night but I couldn't remember what had happened. I knew it had something to do with Robbie, but when I asked him he was extremely evasive about it, he tried to convince me that I had woken with a start when he came to bed very late, but I knew it was more than that because I remembered screaming. Finally in the afternoon something Emily said triggered my memory and suddenly it was all crystal clear. I was fast asleep when I was woken by a loud roaring noise which I can best describe as a one man riot! I woke with a start and I was so frightened that I shouted out as I woke. The cause of the disturbance was unbelievable even for Robbie – he had spotted the new Ikea catalogue at the side of my bed (I got it the previous day) and he was whooping with excitement!!

Wrong Time, Wrong Place. 27.01.08

For once we had a Saturday when I didn't have to drag myself out of bed ridiculously early to take someone to work or to catch a train or whatever. I spend a large part of my life driving my family here there and everywhere. For once I enjoyed a lazy start to the day and it was nice to have Robbie at home on a Saturday for a change. As usual it wasn't long before I was treated to one of Robbie's 'wrong time, wrong place' comments. I thought I finally had his undivided attention, but suddenly he informed me that his Hornby Blue Pullman was DCC ready - he had spotted it on top of the wardrobe! The trouble is once he starts on the subject of trains you cant shut him up and he started to ramble on about the relative merits of the Hornby Virgin Pendolino as against the Dapol version. There was only one course of action open to me, I sent him off to make a cup of tea!

The cats don't seem to mind listening to random information about trains, as long as he feeds them, so he stayed downstairs talking to the cats while i enjoyed a few minutes of peace and quiet with Radio 4. A bit later on I was busy with some paperwork and I noticed that Robbie was missing - I always start to worry when he goes quiet! He was having a chat with one of my friends on instant messenger, she wants to borrow him again, that man will do anything for cake!! There was only a brief respite from railway related ramblings, he pestered me all afternoon until I gave in and took him too the model shop to buy the new Hornby catalogue. It cost £8 just for the catalogue, but at least it kept him quiet for a while!