After the drama of the Lego men on Sunday, I was quite literally left to pick up the pieces. By Sunday evening Robbie had lovingly restored most of the Lego people to their original state but there was still a small jar of parts that required attention.
As soon as Robbie had been despatched to work, I settled down to solve the puzzle. Robbie had most of the body parts for the palace guard but it was the wrong head. So at 6.20 am I was looking at mug shots of Lego men on the computer trying to identify the 'wrong' head. Just before 7am I finally identified the head, it was the head of the man in the dinosaur suit. The dinosaur was not among the 'downstairs' Lego people and a quick trip to the bookcase to inspect the the 'upstairs' Lego men revealed that he wasn't there either. However the head of the palace guard had mysteriously reappeared, placed neatly in front of the top row of minifigures.
It didn't require a crystal ball to work out who was responsible. I woke my son and threatened him with cruel and unusual punishment if the dinosaur didn't reappear right now - it did!! It is easier to deal with my son when Robbie is not around because I don't have an echo. I explained to him that I understood that he may have thought it was funny at first, but it had upset Robbie and caused me untold grief so now it had to be put right without any more fuss. He went back to check his room but he came back empty handed saying that he was sure that there were no more 'hostages'.
I always have plenty to do before heading off to work, but on Monday as well as dealing with the food shopping and the laundry, I had to sort out the Lego men. Believe it or not I found a site that sells spare parts for Lego minifigures. I put in an order to replace a missing baseball bat, graduation certificate, and helmet and I bought some spare bases. I don't think my son was responsible for most of these things, they probably went up the hoover (over time not all together) but I am not going to tell Robbie that or he will hide the hoover!
I also catalogued every single figure and noted the accessories that it should have, so that in future Robbie can check them whenever the mood takes him. Now hopefully I can stop thinking about minifigures for a while otherwise I really might scream!! Just for once it would be nice to have an uneventful few days.
This a quote from Robbie this evening, to get the full effect you should know that he was waving his arms around and looking anguished as he said it. "You don't understand, they are mine, they mean everything to me and nobody should take them away from me". With all that drama you could be forgiven for thinking that he was auditioning for a part in Eastenders, but believe it or not he was talking about his lost socks!!
Robbie has been in the wars over the last couple of days. On Sunday he plunged his hand into the washing up bowl and cut a chunk out of his knuckle. He raged around moaning about the stupidity of putting a knife in the washing up bowl, he had a point, but most people look before they leap! It was a nasty gash and it was in an awkward place but it hardly warranted all the drama and comment.
By Monday evening Robbie's 'war wound' had been more or less overshadowed by the events of the day and Robbie had ventured back into the kitchen. Suddenly there was the unmistakable crashing sound of breaking glass followed within a split second by a volley of expletives. I knew instinctively that it was either one of my glass saucepan lids or a casserole dish, it is never just a glass that can be replaced easily and with little expense. He told me later that it was a saucepan lid that some 'idiot' had booby trapped so that it jumped out of the cupboard at him!
Robbie hopped into the lounge and waved his foot at me, there was hardly anything to see but he was sure he had glass in his foot. On close investigation (with a needle) I could see the glass but it wouldn't come out. I had visions of a night at casualty with Robbie and his foot, that prospect spurred me on to 'do the deed' at home. Eventually I got a flat sliver of glass out of his foot, it had gone in deep and had turned so that it was hard to get out. He seems fine now, there is only a tiny little wound but it was deep do he will have to make sure it doesn't get infected. Somehow I doubt that this incident will stop him from trotting around the house in PJ's and bare feet but you never know!
I can't tell you how Robbie is getting on in Ireland as apparently they don't have telephones! Sam has been unwell all week with a very sore throat and a constant headache, he had a day off school on Tuesday and he was very reluctant to go back yesterday, even the snow this morning hasn't provoked any enthusiasm from him. I am sure he is ill, but the problem is that it is impossible to tell how ill. He is an expert at the 'dying fly' routine and we are treated to the same academy award winning performance for 'finger ache' as for something serious. So I have spent this week worried about making the wrong decision and being told that I am a terrible uncaring mum. Why is life never simple?
