Fighting a Losing Battle

Sometimes I feel that I am fighting a losing battle, every day I do several loads of washing but we appear to have a self filling laundry basket and however much I do there is still more waiting. There is an unwritten rule that any money that turns up in the washing pile goes into my money jar. Usually it is the odd coin from Sam's pocket (why do boys trousers have so many pockets these days?) but on Sunday I found that Robbie had decided to go one step further in the money laundering stakes. He had left a £5 note in his shirt pocket and it emerged from the washing machine damp but intact, I wasn't allowed to keep it for my jar, but at least it didn't stain the shirt.

On the subject of laundry, Robbie hasn't adapted well to doing his own ironing, in fact on several occasions I have come down to be confronted by a vision of Homer Simpson in his pants busy ironing a shirt – it is not the best start to the day! I think a week of doing his own shirts has made him more appreciative. I spoke to him about it at the weekend and he squirmed when I reminded him what he had said the week before. I decided to give him another chance as far as the ironing is concerned, but if he complains again I will starch his smalls!

Leaving Home

Robbie is totally frustrated by the restricted train timetable between Northampton and Rugby. He was out of sorts by Wednesday and positively evil by Thursday morning. He ranted and raved because he claimed that I hadn't ironed any shirts for him, I had, there were at least five ironed shirts but I had forgotten to look into my crystal ball and predict what he would want to wear on Thursday. After a meaningful exchange of views his ironing privileges were withdrawn and I threatened to starch his underwear if he continued to annoy me.

Friday is the only chance that Robbie and I have to spend a weekday evening together, so I was less than amused when Robbie didn't get back to Northampton until 8.30pm! I wouldn't have minded quite so much if I had known before I cooked his meal but apparently the phone connection between Birmingham and Northampton is as unreliable as the train service!!

When Robbie surfaced on Saturday he was still behaving like a bear with a sore head and I was totally fed up with his behaviour. I refuses to accept his lame apology, as far as I am concerned “I'm sorry but you shouldn't wind me up” is not an apology it is an excuse. He decided to leave home and packed a rucksack while I watched with interest. It reminded me of the time that Laura left home when she was about three. She took her Edd the Duck rucksack, a noddy cuddly toy, four packets of raisins and a carton of fruit juice. She forgot to take a coat, but as she only went as far as the garden shed she didn't really need it! Robbie packed his laptop and his ipod, but I knew he didn't intend to leave because he didn't pack any clean underwear! He was furious when he realised that I wasn't taking him seriously, but in the end we had to laugh about it.

Once we were friends again you may have expected Robbie to have a few loving thoughts to share, but in his own unique way Robbie surprised me with a completely random comment. He informed me that when he was a child his mum had a Hoover Junior, he then asked if I remembered the Hoover Senior because his grandmother had one of those. I replied that I didn't and I wasn't especially interested in the history of vacuum cleaners. The next time I checked my email he had sent me links to three sites about old vacuum cleaners. Why does he have to be quite so unique?

The Continuing Saga of Socks

Robbie bought new socks when he went to the Marks and Spencer sale at the weekend. Since Saturday they have been parked on the unit in the hall, I think he is doing it to taunt me because I am not keen on the lurid colours, black and orange, navy and pink, bright green and black and other equally off-putting combinations. A pair fell onto the floor yesterday and Meg found them before I did, so they were a bit grubby. I knew Robbie would moan about it so I put them in the wash and I mentioned it to Robbie that evening. He panicked and insisted that he didn't want me to put his socks in the wash because they would be lost without trace. I was offended but he ploughed on regardless, he said he would wash his socks himself and dry them on the radiator in the bedroom. No way! For someone who is health and safety trained he has some batty ideas, the radiator is not designed to have things draped over it, it is not safe. In fact if he drapes wet socks all over the bedroom his own safety may be at risk too! Oh well, if I can't be trusted to wash his socks, I'm certainly not capable of washing and ironing his shirts, it looks as if he is going to be a very busy boy!

Robbie to the Rescue

I always enjoy Friday evenings, the weekend stretches before us and I can look forward to not getting up at the crack of dawn. We had not been home for very long when the phone rang with an SOS for Robbie. My friend Marion was having problems with her router and she needed to borrow Robbie for an hour or two. After our meal I dropped Robbie at her house, which is not far from where we live, that left me free to pop to the supermarket and then to get on with some cooking. I was expecting Robbie to take ages because Marion's computer has proved stubborn in the past. I was wrong, it only took him just over an hour, so when he rang I was in the middle of cooking. I was making cakes for Robbie, as requested. When I collected him he emerged from Marion's house clutching a tin full of cakes! There is something about Robbie that makes people want to feed him, its the only way I know to stop him talking so perhaps it isn't so surprising.

Saturday morning is always a time for random statements from Robbie and this morning was no exception. After we had almost had an argument about the London Mayoral elections, Robbie cuddled up to me and announced that he was missing his contact from Network Rail at Leeds. She is off sick and Robbie said it doesn't feel right not having her at the end of the phone. Oddly enough I hadn't planned to spend my extra hour or so in bed talking about Network Rail, but it seems as if work is never far from Robbie's mind.

We had the usual argument in the supermarket when Robbie repacked the trolley just to prove that he was in control. I put it back how I wanted it and he stomped towards the cat food telling me that I could keep the trolley. I took him at his word but within seconds he was back to take control once more. When we got home again he was doing a lot of clattering around and sighing in the kitchen so I left him to it. I ploughed my way through the ironing, so Sam and Robbie have another weeks supply of ironed shirts - if I had my way men would be banned from wearing shirts!!

Finally I had finished the ironing, sorted out the cat tray and supervised Sam cleaning out his guinea pig. I sat down for a well earned rest while watching I'd Do Anything - did I mention before that Sam had to point out to me the irony of Graham Norton searching for a Nancy! I was enjoying the show when Robbie, who is not the worlds most effective window, stood between me and the screen and began a detailed account of the freezer contents and a convoluted explanation of the way he had reorganised the storage space. He got really cross when I told him to go away and leave me to enjoy the television. He is a control freak when it comes to the fridge and freezer, he even leaves post it notes to tell people what to eat first! I don't know why he bothers because we all do as we like anyway. Why does he have to be so exhausting?

Getting Naked 25.02.08

Robbie caused consternation at work this morning when one of his colleagues found discarded clothing on and around his desk. They had conjured up images of an intruder who got into the office at the weekend just to get naked and zoom around on the swivel chairs but the truth was a little more down to earth. Robbie had changed at work on Friday before heading off to Liverpool to see his beloved Royal Scots Grey. He assures me that he changed in private and he didn't do a Homer and stalk through the open plan office in his knickers, he just carelessly abandoned his clothing on someone's desk. That must have been an incredible start to his week for his colleague, turning up to work on a Monday morning to be confronted by Robbie's washing!

On the subject of washing, I have won my battle with the European Washing Mountain and all Sam's belongings have been washed, ironed and put away. The washing machine nearly had a nervous breakdown, but it is finally done - until the next time. Our own little 'Mr Trebus' has wasted no time in cluttering up his bedroom again since he got back from Austria - I found two pots of honey up there today. I heard on the radio that due to longer lasting paint they will finally be able to take a break from painting the Forth Bridge. Unfortunately bringing order to Sam's bedroom looks as if it will be a never ending task for many years to come.

Robbie was late home tonight, and when he finally turned up he couldn't stop talking about the N word - Network Rail! Do you think they have ever been named as the other party in divorce proceedings before - or will ours be the first?!

An Unexpected Visitor 30.10.07

Robbie was out this evening so Sam took responsibility for feeding the cat and dog. Suddenly he shouted from the kitchen that we had a visitor and seconds later he appeared in the lounge with a toad in his hand. Apparently it had come in through the dog flap! After posing for photos Sam took the toad out to a nice 'toad friendly' spot under the shed, hopefully he will find his way home from there.

I spent the evening ironing Robbie's shirts - according to him he only has three decent shirts, but there is something odd going on because I ironed at least eight of his shirts - maybe he has a twin and I just haven't noticed!

When in a Hole ......... 23.10.07

Robbie seems to enjoy living dangerously! He got home slightly earlier yesterday evening and he appeared in the kitchen to help me with the final few minutes of getting our meal ready. First he moaned about the burn mark on the iron (that he caused) because it will not come off. Then he criticised the way I filled the kettle, telling me that I wasn't even capable of filling the kettle properly. Having started to 'dig his hole' he seemed unable to stop and he went on to tell me that I was a liability in the kitchen! I took the hint and left him to it, after all I am a liability! He begged for help serving the food but I refused. Considering my inadequacy in the kitchen we had a very nice roast dinner and everyone cleared their plates, so I must have got something right! I was going to do a beef stew tonight - one of Robbie's favourites, but being a liability in the kitchen perhaps I should play safe and give him cheese on toast instead!! You may have guessed that Robbie didn't enjoy his evening very much - serves him right!

I have told him many times 'when in a hole stop digging' but he seems to do the exact opposite. Just as there was a 'slight thaw' in my attitude he messed it all up again. He had a moan about the quality of the ironing! Realising that he was now out of his depth, he said that he doesn't have enough shirts. I don't know how he could make such a stupid claim, it is like Imelda Markos saying she didn't have enough shoes! He seriously expected me to believe that he only has three, the true figure is nearer to thirty! When challenged he did back track a bit, first it was only three shirts, then it was only three long sleeved shirts and then it became only three white shirts! Oh well, I will do an audit today just to record the true figure, but if he thinks he only has three shirts he will not miss all the others, so I will stuff them into a couple of black sacks and take them to the recycling bank. I could take a few ties too, maybe some railway books as well. He can try being minimalist for a change, we could do with the space! At least I know what he wants for Christmas now.