"The world was my oyster but I used the wrong fork" - Oscar Wilde

Robbie had undercarriage problems at the end of last week. On Thursday I bought him a Lego City police van set with the police dog and the police man minifigure. He sat down at the table to build it with a big smile on his face, but after a few minutes he announced that his undercarriage was missing. We checked but there was no sign of it in the box, all the other bits were there, but they were useless with the vital part missing. So Friday saw back at the shop in search of the missing part, the things I do to put a smile on his face! He was delighted when he got home and the part was waiting for him on the table. He built the police van, equipped the minifigure with an impossibly large pair of handcuffs and then called me over to admire his work - he even set the scene by creating a range of police dog noises! Okay, I  know he is a bit weird, but it is a harmless pass time, there are plenty of worse things that he could be doing. Anyway seeing him smile makes me happy too.


This morning he cuddled up to me in bed and somehow got on to the subject of one of his odd little obsessions. We have two different sets of cutlery, but Robbie will only use a three pronged fork while my son insists on only using a four pronged fork. They are as bad as each other, but both try to convince me that the other is much worse when it comes to weird obsessions! Robbie warmed to his theme and went on to tell me about the perfect dimensions of a tea spoon. Apparently there has been a serious upset at work, his personal tea spoon which was perfect in every way has been stolen! According to Robbie it is irreplaceable - but that will not stop him trying, he intends to scour ebay in search of a replacement! I scored a minor triumph, I managed to distract him before he got on to the subject of knives! I'm sure I haven't heard the last of his very specific cutlery requirements, but there is only so much that I can cope with in one day.  

Getting a word in edgeways

On Sunday evening Robbie, my son and I were sitting in the lounge, they were watching something boring on television and I was chatting to someone on the internet. The adverts came on and I commented on one which really annoys me. Rather than making me want to buy their products it makes me want to shop elsewhere to punish them for such irritating adverts. My son who was sitting on the other side of the room said "Mum, speak with your inside voice!"
Robbie was sitting in the corner trying to hide the fact that he was giggling like Mutley. He and my son are like two little kids, each takes great pleasure in seeing the other one get into trouble, but at other times they gang up and tease me. I overcame the urge to dash across the room and grab him by the throat, preferring instead to let him hear considerably more of my 'outside voice'. 

I pointed out that I had put up with a lifetime of drivel from my son. I had smiled sweetly during his 'dinosaur phase' while being subjected to more information than anyone could ever need to know about the life and times of the dinosaur. Then there had been his Denis the Menace phase, his spy phase, the Superman phase. Not to mention his obsessive interest in all things film related - and I do mean all things film related, he nearly drove me mad with the myth of the hanging Munchkin. Then we come to Robbie, I don't know where to start when it comes to his obsessions, he shares Lego, Dr Martens, Indie music, Hornby, railways in general, buses, books, magazines ......... and that really is the tip of the iceberg. I can assure you that he doesn't hold back when it comes to sharing his enthusiasm about all these subjects - even at the most inappropriate moments. Thanks to Robbie I know so much about the workings (and failings) of train toilets that I could choose it as a specialist subject on Mastermind! I have never once asked either of them to 'speak with their inside voice' and I have put up with both of them having the attention span of a gnat when it comes to anything I want to talk to them about. Well the worm has turned! Prepare to be bored rigid boys, you are going to hear a lot more of my voice, as they say, if you can't beat them join them!!

Too Much Excitement

The road where we live is reasonably straight, then there is a bend and the road changes its name. This causes some confusion especially for delivery companies because it seems like one long road. Anyway, the 'powers that be' decided to have the road resurfaced, something which is long overdue it was more like the surface of the moon than a road. Each morning they closed the end of the adjoining road and they closed our road part way along to stop traffic getting stuck. Unfortunately it caused problems for me and many other residents trying to reach their homes, so I hoped that it wouldn't take too long. By the end of the first week my hopes had been dashed, they had taken the surface off the road, but there was no sign of a new surface. It is only a short road, not the M1 so I don't know why it took so long, maybe they were digging it up with a teaspoon!


After a second week of road closures and no significant action, they have managed to produce a road surface, still unfinished and not the smoothest I have driven on, but after waiting for two weeks I was glad to be able to drive along the road at last. Robbie had paid keen attention to the road closures because it altered the bus route slightly, and we all know that he loves to obsess about timetables! I wasn't really surprised by that, but I was amazed by his reaction to driving over the new road. His excitement about driving on a road with no marking was just plain weird, he still manages to surprise me!

A Troubling Obsession?

When we were on the train on Sunday Robbie waited until I was relaxed and comfortable, then he rummaged in his rucksack and brought out a leaflet. He opened the leaflet and slid it across the table towards me with a big grin on his face. There were pictures of old buses (Robbie is a bit of a closet bus spotter!) but my eyes fell on a much more troubling picture of milk floats. This place (I can't remember where it was - I was too traumatised!) has a collection of milk floats. Why would anyone want a collection of milk floats? I hate milk floats even more than I hate Volvos, they get in my way, they park inconsiderately and and they always seem to be driven by fiercely ugly old men. As far as I am concerned the only sensible thing to do with a milk float is to blow it up 'Braniacs' style!

I gave Robbie a steady stare, I can put up with a lot, I don't mind his obsession with trains, I can tolerate his 'thing' about buses but if he is going to get into milk floats that is a step too far, its unnatural, in fact it's scarily weird. Robbie guiltily admitted that he wanted to go to see the buses with a friend of his. I grudging agreed on the strict understanding NO MILK FLOATS! I can tolerate most of his enthusiasms but milk floats are a step too far!

Passions

Tuesday was already planned out for us by Robbie. He suffers withdrawal symptoms if he is away from trains for too long, so we had to indulge his passion with a trip to Norwich by train. He kept a running commentary about each different train that he saw, but I was really well behaved and smiled indulgently as he jotted down numbers. Usually when he does that I pretend that I am travelling alone but I just happen to be sitting next to a random weirdo! I even stood quietly and waited while he took endless photos of trains when we got to Norwich.

We had a lovely time in Norwich, except when we went to Boots. Robbie needed hair gel and I needed the items that I didn't get at Tesco the day before. There was more choice at Boots which caused Robbie to be more vocal about what I wanted, he knew I was embarrassed but he was determined to tease me. I chose quickly and hurried him away as another shopper gave him a very disapproving look. A couple of minutes later we were selecting a different product when the same customer passed us again. She gave Robbie a withering look that was completely wasted on him. He announced (too loudly for comfort) that she was jealous and she probably wished her husband was just like Robbie!

Robbie is a man of many passions, trains are perhaps the most obvious obsession, but there is much more to him than that, so we set about indulging some of his other desires. What could be better than Costa Coffee in Waterstones? It was wonderful sipping coffee (from a mug that was so big that I could hardly lift it) while surrounded by books, the anticipation of browsing was almost as good as the experience itself. We finally managed to drag ourselves away from Waterstones, but t seemed that he hadn't had enough pleasure for one day, so he steered me in the direction of PaperChase. As he looked at all the products he became so excited that I thought he would explode, he was like a kid in a sweetshop. I love stationary too, but I manage to be a little less vocal about it than Robbie!

It was a really enjoyable day out that was only spoiled by the rudeness and poor service of the station staff at Norwich. It used to be a really nice station to visit, but over the last couple of years it has really slipped.

Coping Strategies

Recently a number of people have asked how I cope with Robbie, I don't really see it as coping with him, I want to be with him. You could just as well ask him how he copes with me! He is certainly more unique than most, and yes, I admit that he can be downright frustrating, but I think that has something to do with being male. On the whole I am supportive of his interests, after all while he is playing trains or going to gigs he isn't getting into trouble, and he could have chosen far more expensive hobbies. I guess the answer to how I cope with Robbie lies in the blog, when he frustrates me I write about it, it prevents me from beating him to a pulp! He has many good points too, but perhaps I don't write about those things as much - there are limits to what I want to share!

I don't really mind Robbie's railway obsession, we have enough common ground to make it work. I am very interested in history and railway history is fascinating, so there is plenty to keep me interested. I enjoy travelling by train and it is nice to go on journeys together, but most of the time I don't go with Robbie on his days out. I have things to do at home and I would get bored at diesel galas and model rail exhibitions. You have to be certain kind of person to enjoy trundling backwards and forwards over the same stretch of track all day just to travel behind different engines. The one good thing about railway open days is that they make Robbie seem incredibly normal, there are some very odd specimens around. I think it is the sandals and socks that I find most alarming! To be fair most railway people I have met are nice, but however normal they seem they all have that obsessive streak to a greater or lesser extent.

Robbie has mentioned that one or two of his colleagues partners have threatened to write a blog too. I could always offer a spot for a guest blogger!! Robbie showed me the first edition of their staff magazine, it made me rather grateful because Robbie's obsessions are much more normal than some. Imagine having to cope with someone who is so obsessed with bottle openers that his collection has taken over an entire house! At least Robbie can't bring a deltic home!

Robbie's next hospital appointment came through last Friday and typically the date offered was for the week of our holiday. He has managed to change it, but it means that he will have to wait until mid June to get the results of his MRI scan.

Mr. Robbie Burgess 15.08.07

I thought I might dish the dirt on my legend of a step-father, Robbie. I don't think anyone will mind me saying that there is only one Robert Burgess and when they made him they broke the mould! I've never met such an unusual person! He and my mum, although they seem like they are complete opposites, actually have a lot in common! For a start, they are both expert hoarders, and myself and my sister have been clearing out rooms full of train magazines, model railways, family tree magazines and paperwork, CDs and doctor martin shoes! It is much easier to clean the house when they are away, because Robbie doesn't like it when we clean. He likes to clean in his own way, which consists of putting things in places that no one would ever dream of finding them! The rest of the family like to call him Mr. Squirrell! Mum seems to have become rather interested in trains nowadays too; if Robbie is sitting reading one of his railway books or magazines, my mum can often be seen sneaking a peek over his shoulder! Robbie likes to talk...alot! :P He will often get mum cross by starting a group discussion on the most random of subjects, whilst my mum is trying to watch one of her programmes on the television. He's probably the funniest, most bubbly person I'll ever have the pleasure of meeting, and Laura has now almost perfected the art of impersonating his mannerisms!

Introducing Sam

I think it is about time that I introduced you to my son Sam. He is a very unusual young man, bright, funny, knowledgeable and totally obsessive. He has Asperger Syndrome, it makes life hard for him because he struggles with personal organisation, he hates his routines to be disrupted and he is not good at calculating risk. At his worse he is like an angry troll, but at his best he is charming, friendly and interested in absolutely everything. Does that sound like anyone you know!
When Sam was a little boy aged about three, he went through a phase when he insisted on wearing a shirt and tie at all times. He looked like a mini professor. His nursery was doing a topic on food and they took a group of children to visit the fish counter at Safeway’s. The children were able to see behind the scenes and Sam was enthralled with the whole experience. He talked about it for weeks afterwards until I was in danger of dreaming about wet fish!
Sam’s passion for dead fish, grew and every time we went to Safeways he would head off to the fish counter, pick a likely looking victim and interview them in detail about the origins and intimate details of the fish. Before long Sam knew more than they did. When he approached the fish counter I kept a discreet distance and tried to pretend he wasn’t mine, while the long suffering staff ran for cover! My mum thought it was cute; she claimed it was in his blood because her father had been a fishmonger. I knew it was well weird!
Sam is almost 12 now and many obsessions have come and gone. Thankfully dead fish are a thing of the past, his present ‘mastermind subject’ is Superman – the extent of his knowledge is terrifying. So you see I have no problems coping with Robbie because after Sam Robbie is a doddle!

Train Spotting

We were quite late going to bed last night and when I walked in to the bedroom Robbie was sitting on the bed in his usual Buddha like pose reading one of his many train books. Usually I take an interest in his passion for trains but at well past midnight it was the wrong time and the wrong place! I closed my eyes and was just drifting off to sleep when Robbie jolted me back to consciousness. He was showing me a picture of a train interior and demanding to know if the train I used to catch to London in 1982/3 was exactly like this. My answer was not particularly pleasant!!!!!