The title of this post sums up the the advice that I follow when Robbie is being irritating - a lot of deep breathing goes on in our house! This morning Robbie and I decided that the time has come to buy a new mattress and it is probably about time we had a new duvet and some new bedding as well. It will take a day or two to decide on the best mattress for us, but Robbie wanted to go and choose the duvet and the new bedding this afternoon. So when we had done all the routine jobs that couldn't be ignored, we set off to buy new bedding.
The first problem that we encountered was choosing the duvet. It wasn't as simple as just choosing a king size one, Robbie had to read and compare the information about each type of duvet. He decided on the 'bounce back' duvet - I wonder if that means that it will pick itself up off the floor and bounce back into place when it slips off the bed!
Having chosen the duvet we then turned our attention to duvet covers and that was the way the trouble began. Robbie wanted designs with huge flowers all over them, but I don't 'do' flowers, I wanted a more simple design, stripes or a pattern but not flowers. Robbie moved from one hideous floral design to another and when his powers of persuasion failed he tried insults instead. Apparently I have no taste and I am stuck in the '80s - probably true on both counts, but all the insults in the world would not tempt me to buy a duvet cover covered in flowers.
Eventually he gave up on the flowers and decided that he wanted a duvet cover with embroidered butterflies - no way! More 'negotiations' followed and he gave up on the butterflies in favour of a duvet cover with pictures of buildings on it. Is it too much to ask to want a nice simple duvet cover that will not offend the eye? I used my veto on the buildings and directed his attention to a couple of other designs that I though he would like, they were not exactly my choice but if he liked them I could tolerated them. After in depth negotiations we settled on a design in the style of Cath Kidston, it was a bit fussy for my liking but at least it will not shout at me every time I walk into the bedroom.
I thought we were almost done but choosing a new bath mat proved almost as difficult as choosing a duvet cover!
I had a stabbing pain in my chest while I was at work on Tuesday evening. I was busy so I tried to ignore it, but after about an however I couldn't tolerate it any longer, it was as if a knife was being forced through the wall of my chest. So I went to the bathroom to investigate and I found that the underwire in my bra had snapped and the rough end had forced it's way through the material and it was in the process of embedding itself into my skin. I removed the the broken underwire, it left me looking a bit lopsided for the rest of the evening but at least I had put a stop to the pain. It was one of my favourites and finding a comfortable replacement will be challenging, but that is a problem for another day.
On the subject of clothes, I was treated to a fashion show when I got home from work. My son was getting ready for his university interview the next day and he planned his outfit very carefully. We were consulted about his choice of shirt, the colour of his tie and then we were asked to help him choose the most suitable tie. I used to think that choosing what to wear was much easier for men, but now I am not so sure. I think he looked very smart and he worked very hard to ensure that he was well prepared for his interview so all we can do now is to keep our fingers crossed.
Mr B has been doing his Dr Dolittle act again. On Sunday evening he had a word with me on behalf of the guinea pig. According to Robbie she is not as satisfied with the new carrots I bought because they are the wrong shape! I told him that she is a guinea pig and as long as she has enough to eat she is not bothered about size, to her three small carrots are just as good as one large one. I could tell by his expression that he wasn't convinced, he told me that he was sure that she found the larger ones more satisfying.
Usually I buy 'saver' carrots for her, but last week they had some small 'finest' organic carrots on offer. They were cheaper than the saver carrots so I chose those for the guinea pig along with her curly kale and other vegetables. I am fairly sure that she didn't even notice the difference, I think it is Robbie who has the problem not the guinea pig! Why do men have to obsess about size all the time?
I think it is a myth that women love to shop, I detest shopping and I do everything in my power to avoid it. Robbie loves to shop, if shopping was an Olympic sport he would be a gold medalist! Pain permitting he will happily wander from shop to shop making a mental note of everything in stock. He is interested in absolutely everything, clothes, shoes, books, toiletries, gadgets, kitchen equipment, you name it Robbie knows about it! When he can't shop he reads about shopping, even about the changing dimensions of toilet rolls!
These days unfortunately pain and long working hours limits Robbie's enjoyment of shopping to some extent these days. I find myself I often find myself doing errands for him and woe betide me if I get the wrong item. Yesterday I went shopping for food, just day to day items mainly, but Robbie likes a particular brand of chicken and mushroom pie and I was going to get one of those for him too. They didn't have any in stock so I was brave (or foolish) enough to buy an alternative brand instead. It was a more expensive brand so I thought Robbie may be willing to try it. As soon as I told him about it he had that sulky look that he does so well. It was as if a big black cloud had settled over us. He said he was unhappy because the quality of the gravy was bound to be wrong and he would rather go without than have to put up with an alternative. Failed again!
I failed last week too, I bought the usual brand of liquid soap, but I chose the green one with aloe vera rather than the usual option. Robbie gets very sore cracked hands and I thought the aloe vera may be good for his skin. He was not impressed, he complained plaintively about the 'smell' I think it is quite pleasant, but it doesn't float Robbie's boat. It looks as if we will have to have his and hers hand wash for a while until I work my way through the three bottles of aloe vera that I bought. Today he mentioned that he needs more hair stuff. I am dreading getting that because when they changed the packaging I bought a stash of the old design, but now he has to adjust to the new pack and I know that he will moan about it. I guess I will just have to throw a deaf ear, I am good at that, I get lots of practice.
I am quietly confident that he will be pleased with one recent purchase. I have to do some odd things for Robbie at times but 'feeling' Lego men has to be closet to the top of the list. The minifigures come in individual sealed packs, there are 16 to collect but the only reliable way to find the one you want is to feel the pieces through the foil bag. I have become very good at finding them this way, but I have had some very dodgy looks. I must be mad, standing in the shop for ages 'molesting' Lego men, just to put a smile on Robbie's face! He only opens one figure each day and he still has a couple of unopened ones in his stash, but I am confident that they will complete his set of series 7 minifigures.
I had a strange experience yesterday, I went to parents evening with my son. He has recently moved from a boy's school to a girls school for his A levels. It was his choice to make the move and his decision was based on the girl's school being able to offer him the subjects he wanted and a better all round experience. He is one of just half a dozen boys in his year, there are about a dozen in the whole school so the move must have been a bit of a culture shock.
Last night my son and I went to a consultation meeting at school. I am used to the school, my daughters went there, so turning up for parents evening was a fairly ordinary experience - or so I thought. I wasn't prepared for the new experience of going to parents evening with my son. As we walked in there were a number of younger girls there to get people to sign in and to give out various bits of paperwork. It felt like watching meerkats, every head turned in the same direction as he walked past and there was a chorus of girls calling his name and trying to attract his attention. As we left much the same thing happened again and my son gave a small hand gesture of acknowledgement as he walked passed them. He seems to be very happy at his new school, but I just hope it isn't making him big headed!
I spent another Saturday without Robbie, he did text a few times, but it doesn't really make up for not being here. I did ordinary things, a trip to the supermarket, housework, my writing work, feeding hungry animals and hungry people and other exciting tasks. Emily was busy packing to go on holiday to Cornwall first thing in the morning, I would love to be in Cornwall again.
Robbie sent me a text asking me if I would like to go to Glasgow on a rail tour, I thanked him but said no. If I go to Glasgow I want to go on a Pendolino, I don't see the point of going on an old train when you could go on a new one. Robbie thinks I am mad, but he is not really in the best position to judge, he is not exactly normality personified! He seemed to take great offense at my lack of good taste when it comes to trains and he tried to get me to change my mind, but in the end he gave up and said he would ring me a bit later on. I waited for his call, but by 2am I gave up and fell asleep.
A few days ago when I had objected to him going on this rail tour he reassured me that he would be home early on the Sunday morning, in time to make me a cup of tea and a bacon sandwich. I woke early on Sunday morning and I was looking forward to seeing Robbie again after almost a week away. I listened to the radio thinking that it wouldn't be long before he got home, time went on, I had my bath, made my own cup of tea and listened to the Archers, but still there was no sign of him. There were no texts, no phone calls, and no reply when I tried to contact him. Lunch time came and went and I got on with my ordinary routine, but I was increasingly worried and annoyed about the lack of contact. Finally sometime after 3.30pm Robbie phoned me with the usual set of excuses. He was too tired to phone last night, he overslept, his phone was dead, there are no payphones in Birmingham, he forgot to ring me.
What annoyed me most was that he thought I would be OK about it - I wasn't! I reminded him that he had been put on a final warning the last time he did this. He seemed to think it was all very trivial - I didn't! Everyone has their limits and he was about to discover mine! At just after 6pm I picked him up from the station.
I had plenty to say, but it resulted in me offering him a choice, me or the rail tours. When put like that it only took him a few minutes to decide - in favour of the rail tours! So he packed his things and I took him back to the station, with him telling me that I had given him an impossible choice. He didn't seem to understand that I found it deeply hurtful (but not surprising) to come second to a train! He plodded off to the platform feeling very hard done by. I waited in the car park and about ten minutes later I got a text saying "OK, you win!" and shortly afterwards he plodded back to the car. The silly thing is I don't want to 'win' I just want a lot more consideration.!
As I was driving out of the shopping centre car park on Friday I noticed the colour of the colour of the car in front of me - pea green. It was fairly new and it looked immaculate, clearly it was well looked after, but one nagging thought wouldn't go away - who would choose to buy a pea green car? Even if the present owner didn't buy it from new, someone must have done. I find it hard to believe that anyone would decide to spend such a large sum of money on a car and then insist that it absolutely had to be pea green and nothing else would do! It is a very suitable colour - for peas, but I am only aware of one couple who selected that colour for a mode of transport, and the owl and the pussycat were such an ill matched pair that nobody would have noticed their boat.
Perhaps the car was bought by an exhibitionist who would do anything to get noticed, but even that is a bit of a stretch of the imagination. Even an exhibitionist would not choose such a diabolical colour for a car. Imagine the marketing strategy, did they offer a substantial discount on the purchase price in order to make pea green the 'new black', or were they aiming specifically at the colour-blind market? Oh well, I guess I will never know, it is just one of life's unsolved mysteries.
