The Art of A Good Argument

The fact that Robbie and I argue will come as no surprise to regular readers of the blog, but the things that we argue about are perhaps a little more surprising. I listened to a discussion on the radio recently about the causes of arguments within relationships and I realised that Robbie and I argue about some very strange things compared to other people. So I decided to come up with a list, and looking back at the blog has revealed lots of evidence too..

The gender of God - Robbie is convinced that God is male, rather formal and definitely C of E, my understanding of God is considerably different. If Robbie gets too pompous about it I tell him that God is female and he loses it completely!   Sunday Morning Musings

The merits or otherwise of Ken Livingstone - This subject crops up when Robbie wants to provoke an argument, he knows exactly which buttons to press to get a reaction and it always works. The mere mention of that odious little man sends my blood pressure sky high and totally ruins my day. Red and Green, Not Fit to Be Seen

The fridge - Robbie is the self appointed ruler of the fridge. It has to be set out his way and he even expects me to buy condiments and such like in the correct size to fit in the spaces that he has designated for them. He is destined to be a very disappointed man because I do as I like!
The Fridge Police  Fitting In  King of the Fridge

Supermarket shopping - Supermarket shopping together is a very dangerous activity because it is very likely to lead to arguments. Robbie likes to push the trolley, to organise the trolley so that the items are stacked in the correct manner (according to him), to dictate the size shape and brand of item purchased and to be in complete control of the order the items are put through the checkout. There have been occasions when we have almost come to blows and on several memorable occasions he has danced with fury!  Survival - Against The Odds!

Trains come first - I shouldn't really complain, Robbie has never made any secret of the fact that he lives, breathes and sleeps trains, but there are occasions when it would be really nice if he could put me first just for a few minutes. In Disgrace Again 

Waking me up  - I really wish that I could make him understand how annoying it is to be woken up. He may be able to go to sleep as soon as his head hits the pillow, but if he wakes me up it takes me ages to get back to sleep. Of all the things that we argue about I find this the most hurtful because it is so thoughtless.  Tiredness Can Kill


What to wear - Robbie is so conventional in some ways, but when it comes to clothes he is unique, in fact I sometimes wonder about his sanity. The clothes he wears are a bit like him, loud, startling and a bit crazy - need I say more! I believe passionately in freedom of choice - my freedom to choose not to go out with him looking like that!! Human Rights


Hoarding - Both of us are hoarders, we both hoard different things for different reasons and it often leads to conflict. I have written countless posts about Robbie and his love of clutter, so it seems only fair to link to posts that explain what I hoard and why. Confessions of a Hoarder  Parting with Memories

Being tactless - Robbie has an unfortunate habit of speaking his thoughts and it can get him into big trouble at times Questions Questions 

Lack of awareness - Robbie is very lovable, but he has a complete lack of awareness of the way that his actions impact on those around him - mostly me!
Give Him an Inch and He Takes a Mile! 


The Location of the North - This is a matter of fierce debate. Having grown up in Northamptonshire I know that the North starts at Watford Gap but Robbie grew up in Staffordshire and he gets extremely annoyed when I say that he is from the north. We have a similar debate about the Midlands, Robbie thinks that the Midlands means Birmingham, but I keep telling him that Northamptonshire is classed as East Midlands while the whole area around Birmingham is the West Midlands. If yo really want a reaction from Robbie tell him that he has a Birmingham accent - and then run very fast!! I cant tell the difference but he insists that his Walsall accent is completely different.


Burial or Cremation - This is something that we will never agree about. When the time comes I want to be cremated because I think it is cleaner and more responsible, but Robbie wants to be planted. If he really annoys me I tell him that he will have to make sure he outlives me if he wants to get his own way, but he knows that if it came to it I would of course respect his wishes.

Some of these things are fairly trivial but some we could almost fight to the death over. Maybe that is why the blog is so useful, it helps me to get it out of my system without harming him! Some people say it is healthy to argue, it is better than not communicating at all and it is fun making up afterwards!

Tired

As you can see this was written yesterday, but the internet connection is so slow here that I have only just managed to upload it.

I can't believe it is Thursday already and I can't believe how tired we both feel, It must be the sea air or something. Neither of us were up very early this morning, but we were not in a hurry to go anywhere so it didn't matter.

I washed a few bits and bobs before we went out. When we are at home laundry is just a chore, but here washing (by hand) is a pleasure because it is so easy to get things dry. There is just a footpath between the back garden and the beach so there is always enough breeze to dry the washing.

We enjoyed an afternoon in North Walsham, it is not far from Walcott and we know it well, but we still enjoy having a look around whenever we are in Norfolk. It is just nice to relax and be able to spend unhurried time together. Later while we were pottering around Robbie came up with his quote of the week. He was choosing a bottle of salad cream, an I was marveling at how difficult he made it. First there was the debate abot glass bottle or plastic bottle, then it was a matter of the shape of the bottle, then he prefers the design of the lable of one brand over another. As far as I could see there was no consideration about price or taste, so I just picked up the light version of the brand he had chosen and headed off with the trolley. I didn't get far, he had a fit because the lable was the wrong colour and I had to swap it to the colour he was comfortable with. He said "the trouble is you don't understand me" but I think from his point of view the trouble is that I understand him far to well at times - it doesn't always make life comfortable for him! He may be hard work at times but he is worth the effort - usually!

Laura and her friend came this afternoon, they are only staying until tomorrow, but it is lovely to see them. They went into Cromer this evening.

Trouser Trouble

It is a strange life, when Robbie is at home I want to send him back to work and when he is going back to work I want to keep him at home. He has been challenging at times over Christmas, but I wish he had a bit longer at home. On Christmas Day he was still trotting around in his PJ's when my mum, stepfather and brother arrived at lunchtime, a fairly alarming sight especially when you are not expecting it. He eventually got dressed in his cords and his 'Ho, Ho, Homer' T shirt (that slogan proved too tempting for the kids!) but more shocks were in store – his trousers fell down when he was doing the washing up! I thought that was the end of the trouser trouble, but I nearly crashed the car on Tuesday when we were taking my Mum and step father shopping and out of the silence he suddenly announced that he was not wearing underwear! I sincerely hoped he was joking because he was wearing the same pair of cords that had fallen down on Christmas Day, and it was 'geriatric' day at Morrisons - he could have caused mass hysteria! I really don't know what triggers him to speak his thoughts sometimes, but I really wish he wouldn't, I have far too many grey hairs already!

Train to the North and Back Again

I have got another horrible cold and my breathing really hurts. On Saturday morning I woke up feeling sorry for myself after a very bad night. Robbie was away 'plating trains' so I rang him to remind him that I want to be cremated not buried! The they had made a very early start and rail tour was well under way heading toward Blackpool, Robbie was concerned that I felt rotten and he offered to come home. I gratefully accepted his offer and he was left stuttering and spluttering trying to think of a convincing reason why he couldn't come home. I didn't really expect him to come home, but I couldn't resist making him squirm. I dosed myself up and got on with my jobs which included taking Sam to his friend's party and doing some food shopping. The party was at a go carting circuit which must be run by the secret services because it is so badly signposted that we couldn't find it and everybody was half an hour late.

I spoke to Robbie later on Saturday evening and he assured me that he would get home as quickly as he could in the morning because he was worried about me. Sunday morning dawned and by 10am I still had not heard from him so I rang him, he said he had just woken up and he was sitting up in bed enjoying a cup of coffee. He told me that he would be on his way home after breakfast. By 3pm I was starting to wonder when he would be back, I rang again and he said he had just finished his breakfast and was having a coffee – he hadn't even started his journey! He finally got home at about 7pm and he was still talking about his wonderful breakfast – what is it about Robbie that makes everyone want to feed him? On the way back from the station we needed to stop for fuel, it had been raining and when stopped the car the wipers were not straight, Robbie protested loudly, he couldn't possibly refuel a car with wonky wipers! He sat there arms folded demanding that I should straighten the wipers, I didn't and he muttered and moaned all through the refuling and payment process.

Does it Measure Up?

Why does the weekend always rush past so quickly, while the week seems like such a hard slog? We went to the supermarket for our usual weekend shopping trip, it was nice to have something to distract Robbie because he had been talking about HST toilets again, I don't know why he finds the subject so fascinating, but apparently servicing the toilets has implications for his timetables. He told me I am not allowed to write about HST's because I was unkind about them last week, so of course that made me squeeze out another post on the subject. Telling me I can't do something is not a good idea! I may regret the loss of the shop and I may find the colour scheme a bit on the boring side, but even I have to admit that there is one plus point - decent brands are coming back. I was sad when Virgin lost the Cross Country franchise, but if it has saved us from that pathetic apology apology for cola, I am delighted. I don't think I have ever tasted anything as disgusting in my life. So OK bring on the (boring) refitted HST all is forgiven -well almost all, I haven't forgiven them for nicking half the toilets but I will have a rant about that another day.

Anyway back to Robbie and the supermarket, you will not believe what he did. I was so embarrassed that I had to walk away and pretend that I wasn't with him. He got down on his knees and measured the tomato sauce and HP sauce bottles! It was like shopping with Mr Bean.

Fitting In

I have committed a terrible sin and Robbie is beside himself with frustration and fury. I arrived home from work last night totally exhausted and struggling to walk because I have hurt my ankle, I sank into the chair and looked forward to relaxing with a nice cup of tea. My hopes were dashed when Robbie loomed in the doorway like the honey monster, at first words failed him (yes really!) but he was holding a large tomato ketchup bottle and gesticulating wildly, so I knew what was troubling him. I had bought the wrong size tomato ketchup bottle! Unfortunately Robbie regained the powers of speech, and he continued to moan about it all evening, in fact he was still bleating on about it when he went off to work this morning. He insists that it will not fit in the right place in the fridge and he is unwilling to let me put it in a different place in the fridge because he claims that he would have to rearrange the entire fridge! This obsessiveness about the fridge really drives me mad but as the saying goes 'what can't be cured must be endured' so if it makes him feel better he will have to rearrange the fridge. I bought the larger size because it was on offer and much cheaper than usual, in fact I am tempted to stock up while it is on offer! Life is all about compromise, in my case I allow Robbie to be the 'King of the Fridge' but he has to compromise too, so the large size stays. After all he needs another late night lift on Saturday, so he may decide that the ketchup bottle is not such a big deal in the end.

King of the Fridge

People often ask how I cope with Robbie, mostly his idiosyncrasies don't really bother me, but sometimes the little things make me furious. I have written about Robbie's obsessive control of the fridge before. The 'post it' notes on the food drive me mad, I don't need to be told to 'use this first' or 'don't eat this' who made him the King of the Fridge anyway?

At just after midnight Robbie informed me that he'd enjoyed his evening meal but he would have liked to have an egg with it. I wondered why he should mention it now, so many hours after his meal and I asked him why he hadn't done himself an egg if he wanted one. He explained that we had none because he had thrown them away as they were out of date. I was furious, he had actually thrown away a brand new box of 12 large free range eggs! I conveyed my feelings to him and he explained that when he looked last week the eggs were nearly out of date and I hadn't informed him that I had bought new ones and thrown out the old ones, so when he was sorting out the fridge he threw them away. So apparently now he has taken on sole responsibility for stock control! I don't know why he couldn't read the use by date or why he didn't realise that the box of eggs was full, but his excuse was absolutely pathetic!

I took myself off to bed muttering darkly and planning my revenge – a mouse trap in his bed sounds suitably painful!

A Frustrating Day 11.08.07

I woke this morning to find Robbie already awake and sitting on the edge of the bed. He said he had to pop into work just for an hour or so, the journey takes more than an hour each way and that hour at work would have turned into one of those elastic hours that lasts almost all day! I know there was a good reason for wanting to go to work, but he had been feeling ill all night and he had commitments at home too and I made him choose the holiday or work. He is not a fast learner but eventually he worked out that I was serious and he decided to stay at home.

Our new washing machine was due to be delivered so he plodded off downstairs to tidy the kitchen and pull out the old washing machine. He reappeared a little later looking like a drowned rat, it seems that round one of his fight to displace the old washing machine was won conclusively by the washing machine! He was unable to isolate the water pipe and got an unexpected shower. He went back to try again and after a couple more dispiriting failures he finally managed to get the hot water pipe into the waste pipe so at least we didn't have to paddle around the kitchen - and the floor was extra clean! I once vowed that if I ever married again I would marry a plumber, having failed miserably in that particular quest I demanded that Robbie should leave it alone and get a plumber NOW!

The new washing machine came and the old one trundled of to the place where washing machines go to die. We waited, and waited and waited for the plumber, it was well past 3pm before he arrived. He made short work of the problem, devastated my bank account, and left to enjoy his weekend. All Robbie had to do then was to remove the protective fixings and get the machine on, just one problem - he didn't have the right tools for the job and wanted to be taken to the DIY shop to buy them. I used to have the correct tools, but 'Squirrel Nutkin' gets hold of them and stashes them in obscure places, then when we need them he denies all knowledge of them. I had so much washing to do, as well as countless other jobs so I wasn't amused, but when Robbie insisted on shaving before going out I lost the plot and after a 'full and frank' exchange of views he retreated to the bathroom and I thundered off to buy the socket set alone! I returned even poorer with sufficient tools to rebuild the entire house and finally the new washing machine was commissioned. My blood pressure must have been off the radar by this time and I really did feel like harming Robbie!

Later in the day we went to Tesco's to get supplies for the girls and to get some stuff to take with us. All was going well until Robbie got to the clothes section, he had his heart set on some terrifyingly loud shorts with big red flowers all over them. I hadn't the energy to argue and he bought two pairs of shorts and three T shirts. Soon afterwards I was innocently selecting some ladies hygiene items when Robbie came along and announced in a very loud voice that they had started to sell my preferred brand of tampons again, he was so excited by this that he was attracting attention. My look of horror was ignored and he proceeded to sort through all the boxes on display looking for the correct size, giving a running commentary as he did so. When the floor refused to swallow me up, I slunk away to hide in the frozen food section!

Male Bonding 07.03.07

Burger Man went out for one of his male bonding sessions at lunchtime. Apparently they went to the farmers market to buy an Ostrich Burger, why can't he just eat normal food like everyone else. It is his talk of kangaroo burgers that causes uproar at home, we have a vegetarian in our midst and the disapproval radiates through the house whenever Robbie mentions the repulsive and downright weird food he eats. We all disapprove of his black pudding and dripping, he isn't even allowed to mention them.

The girls think his lunchtime trips to town with a work colleague, they think it sounds a bit 'gay' and they imagine them going clothes shopping and searching for shoes - well as long as I don't have to, I'm not complaining. According to Robbie it is much more boring, they check out the latest music releases and they go food shopping - just mention food and Robbie will follow you anywhere!!