Travelling Light - or Not!

When we got home on Sunday evening we had lots to do to be ready for work on Monday. We had to get evidence ready to post to CSA the next day and Robbie being Robbie couldn't possibly face work unless he had the correct pants, so we had to deal with several loads of washing. All the essentials were done and Robbie was able to face work with his 'thinking pants' on, but I was just too tired to unpack and put away all our luggage. It had been our intention to travel light, but we were so busy and so worried before the holiday that packing was a bit haphazard. Robbie had taken 48 Tshirts as well as long sleeved tops, jackets and enough pairs of shorts to dress a centipede. Getting them ready to pack was one thing, getting them to all fit back in his draws and wardrobes is still a work in progress! I think by the time I have unpacked and got everything back to something approaching normal I will need another holiday!

Lost For Words

Photo by ZoofyTheJi

It is not really true that I am lost for words. I could write about Robbie's missing pants (again), he got so wound up about two missing pairs of black pants yesterday. One pair wasn't missing at all, they were folded in the pile of laundry that I had taken up to the bedroom the previous evening. Apparently I hadn't folded them correctly and on the way to the station he patiently explained how to fold his underwear and amazingly he survived - I must be mellowing in my old age!  The other pair of favourite pants were not far away either, he 'found' them this morning and stood there waving them at me triumphantly in the style of a bull fighter - it isn't the best sight first thing in the morning! 


I could write about the roof leaking when we had torrential rain last Saturday night. It dripped through the ceiling on to Robbie's side of the bed, it ruined some of his precious railway books and it spoiled the covers of some of his vinyl records. He was so angry about it. After rescuing his things and finding a container to catch the water he stormed off to sleep on the sofa and I was left wide awake worrying about how much it is going to cost to fix the roof. It will be a huge amount because it will require scaffolding. 

Photo by Laura Jones

What I really want to write about is how much I love Robbie and how useless I feel sometimes. I am not a soppy, sentimental sort of person but I do care deeply about him and I have been terribly worried by the level of pain that he has been experiencing in recent months. Pain is exhausting and constant pain can be really lowering because it affects everything you do and it changes the way you feel about yourself. Robbie is so strong and so determined to be 'normal' (in his own unique way) but it gets him down when his back hurts and his legs misbehave. I can't take his pain away but I can be strong and help him to accept the need for more effective long term pain management. I can make sure he takes his tablets and help him to cope with the rather unpleasant side effects. The tablets make him very tired, waking him up in the morning is like trying to raise the dead. Sometimes he gets very cross with me and he has been known to tell me to go away in no uncertain terms, but I don't take too much notice of that. One way or another we will get through this. It will take a long time and a lot of trial and error to find the correct medication and the correct dose to manage the pain without devastating side effects. I need to be strong, I will not let him give up.

Robbie On A Bad Day

Where do I start? Maybe I should just say that Robbie's mood yesterday evening was a little fragile, it was clear that he was tired - the sound of snoring was a bit of a hint! I went to bed at around 11pm and I thought he would follow shortly after - he didn't! I made sure that all my alarm clocks were set correctly because it always takes my body clock a few days to adjust to losing an hour. Then I settled down to sleep. The next thing I remember is being woken by someone treading on my ankle - Robbie had finally decided to come to bed. I probably told him to go away as I drifted back to sleep, but I was woken again shortly after by a loud bleep, then another, then a whole series of bleeps and a flashing blue light. In my confused and sleepy state I couldn't work out what was going on, was it morse code or some sort of secret message? I forced my eyes open to see Robbie kneeling naked on the bed attempting to change the time setting on his new Lego alarm clock. There was a brief but brutal exchange of insults and I advised Robbie to take clock to the bathroom to set it with the light on! It was just after 2am and I was determined to get some sleep so I turned my back on him and pulled the duvet over my head.


His Lego alarm clock announced  that it was 5am and time to get up - he slept on. After several further episodes of blue lights and bleeping and considerable input from me, Robbie plodded off to the bathroom. That dratted alarm clock continued to serenade me every 5 minutes until Robbie returned, I wanted to implant it in his head but I restrained myself and told him to take it away and drown it! His interest was then taken up with pants! Allegedly I had deliberately deprived him of his favourite underwear by failing to do a dark wash yesterday. I did a dark wash on Sunday evening, how many pairs of pants could he possibly have got through since then! I provided him with clean pants and socks but he wasn't keen to let go of the issue and he continued muttering about the underwear conspiracy until he found something else to moan about. Apparently I have deliberately failed to oil the hinges on our bedroom door just to annoy him! That man makes my hands itch sometimes!!


The thing is that none of those things were the real problem. The truth is that he is in so much pain from his back and his legs that he doesn't know how to put one foot in front of the other. He will not go to the doctor because he knows there is nothing they can do except give stronger pain killers. I feel so useless, I wish I could make the pain go away, I wish I could do something, anything to make it easier for him. There has to be some way to ease the pain and I am not going to give up until I find it!


Photo by Clix

Things That Go Chomp in the Night

Robbie came very close to being harmed a few nights ago. I should be used to him testing my tolerance to the limit, but when he wakes me up at night he really is asking for trouble. Last Friday I wet to bed at around midnight and Robbie promised that he would not be far behind. I listened to the radio for a little while, but when it became clear that Robbie was not going to turn up any time soon, I turned off the light, settled down and went to sleep.

Much later I was woken by the sound of the bedroom door bursting open and Robbie clomping in talking (to himself or to his imaginary friend) about pants. I reluctantly opened one eye to look at the alarm clock, it was past 2am and Robbie was deciding what pants he wanted to wear in the morning. I closed my eye again and decided to be asleep, it didn't seem to bother him because he was going to talk to me anyway. The subject changed from pants to delayed trains and I knew that 'staying asleep' was the right decision.

Suddenly there was a big thump as a heavy object landed on the bed next to me, it made me jump and I gave up on the idea of 'staying asleep'. I rolled over to find that the Argos catalogue was next to me on the bed. At about the same time Robbie launched himself onto the bed and then spent what felt like hours beating his pillows and flapping the duvet around. I was getting seriously irritated and I was already planning cruel and unusual punishments, but he was totally oblivious. He propped his pillows up against the headboard unwrapped a toffee picked up the Argos catalogue and turned on the light. That was the final straw, I found my voice and told him in no uncertain terms to turn off the light. He refused, so I turned it off myself. He put it back on saying that 20 minutes with the Argos catalogue wasn't much to ask. I sat up and informed him that aggressive toffee chewing and browsing catalogues was NOT a bedroom activity especially at past 2am! I gave him a choice, either read and chew in the bathroom or stop being an idiot and go to sleep. Reluctantly he chose the latter, with a look of defeat he turned off the light, snuggled down and was instantly asleep. I was too angry to sleep, the chomping had been replaced with strange snoring noises like the sound of a balloon deflating!

A Task Delegated to Women?

According to the Telegraph there are some things that women do much better than men, that is no surprise to me, in fact I think women can do most things better than men. However I was rather surprised that buying underwear for men is among the many tasks that women fulfil for the men in their lives. According to a survey conducted by Debenhams men only take responsibility for 17 years of their lives!

Apparently by age 19 young men assert their independence by choosing their own underwear. Judging by the males in our family their independence doesn't yet extend to transporting their smalls to the laundry basket, but we live in hope. By age 36 men have delegated the responsibility of buying their pants to their wives or girlfriends. I don't pretend that Robbie is a typical male, the world can only cope with one Robbie, but in this respect he seems to be 'normal'. When Robbie and I first got together I soon realised that I wouldn't be able to change his 'unique' approach to fashion but at least I persuaded him that baggy boxers were not a good look, they bunched up under his clothing and made him look as if he very odd. That was the extent of my influence until recently when he started to have trouble with his trousers. Suddenly I am not only buying his pants, but I'm being treated to a personal 'catwalk experience' as he tries on each new pair and struts around the lounge showing them off. Scary stuff!

This really isn't a job that I am ready for. Robbie is the one who is into clothes not me. He gives hours of thought to what he wears (yes really!) but as far as I am concerned if it is clean, comfortable and it doesn't make me look like the back of a bus I'm happy. Why shop for clothes when you could go to a bookshop instead? So why am I spending hours contemplating the comfort of Robbie's nether regions? I think it is about time that he stopped being a statistic and took back responsibility for buying his smalls!

Underwear Heaven

Don't worry, I am not going to give you too much information and there certainly will not be a photo! After Robbie's recent problems with itchy and irritated legs we have finally found a solution. Having researched the matter on the internet it seemed that sports underwear may provide offer some protection from the irritating fabric of his suit. So Thursday morning found me at a large sports store having an excruciatingly embarrassing conversation about the correct size to buy with a male assistant who looked implausibly young. I bought the said garment, just one pair as they were scarily expensive and I wasn't sure that they would work. Robbie wasn't too sure at first, but having showed off his new knickers to my son he decided to give them a try. Our son says he will need years of therapy to recover!! On Friday Robbie rang me to say that he was in underwear heaven, apparently the new 'smalls' are perfect, like a second skin. We have now ordered more pairs, so I hope we will hear a lot less about sore legs in the coming weeks.

The Quest for Perfect Pants

For someone who claims to love being naked Robbie manages to get very up tight about his pants. Several weeks before Christmas we decided that Robbie absolutely had to have a new suit for work. The trousers belonging to his favourite suit were becoming rather see through - not a good look, and the jacket of his other work suit had something odd going on with the collar that made him look as if he had no neck. So rather reluctantly we had to break open the piggy bank and beat the VAT rise. Nothing is ever simple when it comes to dressing Robbie and when the suit arrived the trousers didn't fit quite as well as he'd hoped, so they were returned and the replacement order was delayed by the heavy snow. We finally collected the new trousers after Christmas So Monday was the first chance Robbie had to wear his new suit to work - and that is when the trouble began!

When he chose a wool blend suit I pointed out the risk of irritation, but Robbie assured me that he was not sensitive to wool and there was no risk of it making him itch. The suit had other ideas! Robbie arrived home on Monday evening walking like John Wayne, he made it as far as the kitchen before removing his trousers and inviting me to feel his legs. I have seen worse but I had to agree that there was a hint of redness probably caused by the trousers. I prescribed some E45 cream, but Robbie didn't seem keen on getting cream on his hands and I didn't offer to rub it in for him, so his legs remained uncreamed until bed time. Every half an hour or so he got up from his chair and plodded over in his pants to ask me to look at his legs, there was nothing much to see but they were obviously causing him some discomfort. I spent the evening searching online for the perfect pair of pants to remedy the problem and he finally settled on some rather attractive sports underwear from his beloved Marks and Spencer. He intended to make an urgent visit to M&S the next day. So when I plodded off to bed I was hopeful that the solution to the problem was within reach.

We were rather late going to bed and as always I was trying to get to sleep before Robbie arrived. He sat gnome like on the bed contemplating his inner thighs. I urged him to put some E45 cream on his legs and then settle down and get some sleep, my sympathy was fast being eroded by exhaustion. He asked me to get him the cream so I got out of bed and passed it to him then I snuffled back under the covers, clearly it was going to be a long night. After what seemed like hours I out from the covers to see Robbie dispensing a pea sized portion of cream on to one finger and then attempting to rub it in with just one finger. I urged him to get a sensible amount of cream and rub it in with his whole hand or neither of us would get any sleep. He must have taken my advice because he eventually got into bed, but almost as soon as he settled down he started to make strange noises, like a whimper mixed with a groan. Apparently the cream was making his legs sting even more, unbelievably he was asleep within a few minutes but his legs still seemed to have a life of their own. By the time I got to sleep it was time to wake up again, suddenly single beds seem a very attractive option!

Issues with Underwear - and Worse!

Robbie and I had a lovely lazy morning and a leisurely lunch on Saturday, we are so busy during the week that it is extra special to enjoy time together in and feel completely unhurried at the weekend. After lunch we went shopping in town, Robbie needed some pants because according to him people keep stealing his knickers - why would they want his underwear? I wanted to buy a new bra and Robbie seemed perfectly happy to loiter in the lingerie department while I tried on the items that I liked. Sadly we left empty handed, I think I am the wrong shape for absolutely everything I want to buy; I am too wide, too short, and apparently I even have a difficult bust size. The odd thing is that every woman I speak to seems to think that clothes are not made for them, so isn't it about time that stores sold clothes that actually fit real women!


Robbie was keen to get to his beloved M&S. He spent so long looking at underwear that I almost lost the will to live. Either the type of material was wrong, the waistband was wrong or Robbie thought they would not keep everything in place. I got so bored that in the end I was very tempted to tell him to just go commando but I thought better of it - he doesn't need any encouragement! When he finally gave up on the pants I though we would finally be able to go and get a coffee, but that was only the start of our meander around the menswear department. Robbie fell in love with coats, raincoats, trousers, suits, ties and assorted accessories, but then his eyes fell on a shirt that he absolutely had to have. At first I thought he was joking, but no, he was deadly serious, he really wanted an expensive white shirt with little pink roses printed all over it! To say that it was hideous is an understatement, but I can honestly say that Robbie never ceases to surprise me!


After a shock like that I really needed a nice calming cup of coffee at Costa! Can I face going shopping for pants again next week or dare I let him go shopping on his own - I don't know!!

The Mystery of the Missing Pants

Robbie had a very busy weekend, we had a nice day together on Saturday, but in the afternoon I dropped him off at the station knowing that he would be away until the next evening because he was going milk float spotting with his friend on Sunday. According to him they were bus spotting and the milk floats just happened to be there, but I have my doubts, he has some very odd interests so I suspect that he is a closet milk float spotter and the buses are just a clever way of disguising his interest in milk floats! Anyway he had a lovely day out with his friend and he came back with lots of photos of buses - and milk floats!

While he was away I took the opportunity to sort out his drawers and wardrobe. When he came home his clothes were nicely folded and sorted into neat piles on the bed so that he could put them away in the correct drawers. One pile was topped by four pairs of his favourite M&S pants which he had previously alleged were missing. I sat on the bed and chatted to him as he put his clothes away - he likes to be in control of his drawers! Suddenly he complained that there was no underwear in his drawer and none on the bed. There was some underwear in his drawer but not his favourite type. I searched high and low for his pants, I knew they had been there earlier in the day so either we'd had the oddest burglary in history or Robbie had misappropriated his own knickers! Robbie was muttering darkly about being forced to go commando, so desperate measures were called for. An emergency load of washing was put on, so at least Robbie could go to work fully clothed for the next few days!! I searched everywhere for his missing 'smalls' and I finally found them hidden away on the top shelf of his wardrobe. So could it be a poltergeist with a preoccupation with pants or is Robbie losing his marbles?

A Knicker Nicker - Surely Not?

Robbie decided to abandon me on Thursday to go on another pointless union course. He was only going for one day and one night but he packed enough for a week, how many shirts can one man wear in a day? He wasted all the previous evening packing and working out his travel arrangements to Birmingham - a journey that he should be familiar with by now as he does it every week day! After all the messing around I expected him to be totally organised and ready to leave in good time for his train on Thursday morning - I was wrong! I woke him up on time, I even managed to get him out of bed without too much difficulty, but it all went wrong after that.


When I got up I realised that his arrival in the bathroom had been seriously delayed and when I went downstairs to investigate I found him trotting around in his knickers muttering obscenities. According to Robbie someone had stolen his knickers to prevent him going on the course! I had plenty of good reasons to stop him going on the course, but if I had set my mind on keeping him at home I could have achieved my objective without resorting to pant pilfering! I went up to the bedroom and found half a dozen pairs of Robbie's pants, but when I offered them to him he found reasons to reject every pair as unsuitable in some way. He insisted that he had to have his best pants for the course (perhaps they help him to think better!) and he plodded off in search of the perfect pair of pants.


In the end he settled for an 'inferior' pair to pack in his case and he insisted that his best pants had been stolen. By this time we were in the car racing towards the station in time for hid train. I tried to make him review the evidence, Sam is skinny and he couldn't possibly wear Robbie size garments, the girls have an interesting selection of underwear but it is somewhat skimpier than Robbie's, neither of them has a use for the kind that he wears. So who nicked the knickers? The only person I know who wears trunks like Robbie is Homer Simpson, but I believe he prefers white rather than black. The truth is that there was no conspiracy to steal his pants, he just hadn't looked in the right place - they were in the tumble dryer!

Pants

A recent shopper survey by Debenhams revealed that there are only a few years of independence when young men take responsibility for choosing their own underwear. According to the survey teenagers rely on their mothers to buy their pants until around the age of 19 and by the time men reach age 36 they have delegated the task of buying their underwear to their wife or partner.

Robbie is 37 and he still buys his own pants, if I bought them he certainly wouldn't wear those dreadful striped ones that remind me of an old fashioned swimming outfit. I have to admit that I have influenced his choice. When we first met he wore boxers, but they looked horrible and they bunched up under his suit to make it look as if he was wearing a nappy. He got the message after I started calling him Gandhi, now he wears trunks, they look much nicer and he says they are far more comfortable. Sam is almost 15, he would like to be able to select his own underwear, but since the kind he likes are £10 per pair I am unwilling to pay for that. We have reached a compromise on price, but he chooses the style.

Sam is left handed, he is just like Robbie when it comes sharing random snippets of information. The other day he informed me that they now produce left handed underwear for men! He is right, they stock it at Debenhams. Boxer shorts have a centre opening but trunks and Y fronts usually have a right handed opening. The pants made by Horn do not have a vertical opening, instead they have a horizontal opening just below the waistband. The company claims that this could save a left handed man three seconds each time he visits the bathroom. It doesn’t sound much to me, but I guess it would add up over a lifetime!

Giong Comando - A Scary Thought!

On Sunday night I went to bed at at about 12.20am and Robbie assured me that he wouldn't be far behind. It was the usual story, I stayed awake, he didn't come to bed and I fell asleep. Suddenly I was aware of him shouting, he was really angry and moaning that he had no clean pants for the morning. I told him that they were in the pile of folded laundry that I gave him earlier, and there was at least enough pairs of pants for a week. He argued and insisted that there were no pants and he would have to go without. I was equally sure that the pants were exactly where I said they were. It was well past 2pm and I begged Robbie to shut up, but he was warming to his theme and he intended to list the many ways that I was neglecting him. Nothing I could say or do would make him shut up, and I was so annoyed about being woken up that I was ready to harm him. There was no alternative, I got up and went to sit in the bathroom to listen to the radio for a bit. When I got back he was still awake and I made it clear that if he spoke to me again I would go and sleep downstairs. He didn't speak, but he 'breathed aggressively' until he fell asleep and started snoring. I was awake for ages, then when I had got to sleep again it was time to get up! All that fuss about missing knickers! In the morning I made him look again at the pile of clean folded laundry and there were the pants, exactly where I said they were. That man is impossible sometimes!

A Scary Thought!

Sam and Robbie get on very well really but they are a bit competitive and they never miss a chance to get the other in trouble with me. Then to leave me completely confused, when I am really cross with one of them they back each other up. When I got home last night it seemed a fairly relaxed atmosphere Robbie was sitting in the corner working in his laptop, I had expected him to be ready to go with me to fill the car up, but he was in his PJ's so I decided to leave the car until the morning. As I took Sam to school this morning he told me about Robbie having a little tantrum the when he got home yesterday. Apparently Robbie had been looking for a particular T shirt and he came down stairs to check the folded laundry in what Sam described as leggings. This had me laughing out loud, the thought of Robbie in leggings is so disturbing that it is funny. Sam kept a straight face and assured me that it would take years of therapy to deal with a sight like that. I protested that Robbie did not possess any leggings and suggested that he must have been wearing trunks. Sam shrugged and said settled on a new description - 'unmentionables'. Robbie insisted that he was wearing PJ's and he came up with a variety of complaints about the way Sam dresses. They are like two little boys, but I wouldn't want to change either of them (well not much anyway!).

Problems with Pants

I am seriously annoyed with Robbie this morning, we had another one of those mornings with him claiming that I was depriving him of his pants. In fact he went as far as to accuse me of hoarding his knickers in the laundry basket! How ridiculous - that would be a bio hazard! Being ranted at at 5am really doesn't put me in the best of moods. I wish he would get it into his head that nobody is interested in his pants, especially not the unwashed variety! I think I will have to start setting out his clothes the night before, I used to do that for the children when they were younger. On the subject of young children, Robbie admitted that when he was little he used to have his gloves on a string through his coat to stop him losing them, I think I will have to do something similar with his wallet to avoid any more mishaps. I was very impressed by the banks, he reported his cards lost/stolen at about midnight on Tuesday/Wednesday and his replacement cards arrived in the post on Thursday morning, that is very good service.

Lost Property!

I had one of those moments where I wanted the ground to swallow me up this afternoon, it happened when Robbie dropped his trousers in the lounge to show me how well fitting his new knickers are. Try thinking Edwardian bathing trunks and you will have a close enough image! I begged him not to show off his underwear to my mum, she is too old for shocks like that, he grudgingly agreed, but then he told me that one of the women who sometimes catches the train with him liked his new pants. I hardly dared to ask, but he admitted that he had showed his travelling companions his new pants on the train, thankfully he was not wearing them at the time! That was only the beginning of the confessions, a long and complicated story tumbled out, apparently he lost his pants on the journey home, but unlike his well travelled trousers they didn't get left on the train, he left them in someone's car! He retrieved them the following day, but I wonder how his travelling companion felt when he caught the train tat morning and asked “did I leave my pants in your car?” That man really needs a minder!

The Big Cover Up

Exciting news – Robbie has bought new pants! Those people who were alarmed after my recent post on the subject of Robbie's alleged shortage of knickers can relax, he is in no danger of running out of clean underwear. He got a little over excited about his purchase (Marks and Spencer has that effect on him) and he waved his new pants at us just before we sat down to eat on Friday evening. Thank goodness other people don't have to look at them, they are loud and startling just like their owner! Sam claimed that it will take years of therapy to get the image out of his mind and the girls claimed that it put them off their meal.

I think that is more than enough information on that subject. I would like to be able to write about a little mishap that happened to someone who shall remain nameless the other day but I have had warnings about dire consequences if if I do. All I can say is that if you doze off while using your computer you should try not to allow yourself to slump forward, because if your nose touches the keyboard it can cause all sorts of unexpected problems!!

A Night on the Sofa

Robbie went out for the meal with his train buddies and even with my heavy cold I could tell that he came home stinking. I told him that if he wanted to come to bed he would need to wear a gas mask, but it turned out that he never got that far, he decided to watch some horrible noisy music on television and he fell asleep on the sofa, I went down to wake him a couple of times but he never made it to bed. This morning he was in a bad mood and probably in pain after his night on the sofa. He managed to fall out with me because according to him he had no clean pants, he had of course but they were not the ones he wanted. Most people wear 'thinking caps' but it appears that Robbie wears 'thinking pants' because he told me that he couldn't think properly in the grey ones he is wearing today – the mind boggles!

Having already fallen out with me about his knickers, he then launched into a tirade of criticism because he was almost out of deodorant and I hadn't replaced it. Oddly enough I don't have a crystal ball and even if I did I would find something more interesting to focus on than the state of Robbie's armpits! If he doesn't tell me I am not likely to know that he needs more, anyway if he can find time to go on all his outings I don't see why he can't manage to buy his own toiletries! As always when in a hole Robbie started to dig furiously, he said far more than is good for his health and now he is contemplating a second night on the sofa.

The Bottom Line

Friday morning was one big rush, Robbie was running late again but this time it was planned, he had worked late the previous day before going to see Blood Red Shoes at the Academy in Birmingham. He didn't get back to Northampton until midnight and it was 1am before we got to bed, so it is hardly surprising that he didn't want to get up at 5am. Robbie was still galloping around in his pants when I was trying to get Sam organised, but he managed to get dressed and out of the house in time for his train. It was not the most inspiring vision to start the day, but I managed to banish all thoughts of Robbie's underwear from my mind and get on with the day. Robbie arrived home in a cheerful mood and announced that he'd had a brilliant day because the new pants he was wearing felt so comfortable. I was not quite prepared for such detailed information about his underwear (it's OK, I will spare you the detail) but if that is all it takes to bring a smile to his face I will know what to buy him for Christmas!

Vanishing Act!

Dave the cat had a late afternoon appointment at the vet on Monday, as his infected eye was still looking very uncomfortable. The cat box was put in the kitchen the evening before and Dave took no notice of it until about half an hour before his appointment when I bathed his eye again, he wasn't too impressed by that and when I touched the cat carrier he vanished. After a frantic 15 minute search Laura and I found him hiding in the furthest corner under Emily's bed, he swore menacingly when we found him, but he got to his appointment on time. There are no scratches on the eye so he has some eye drops and the infection should clear up in a few days.

I forgot to mention Robbie's random comments on Sunday, he just can't help himself - wrong time wrong place! He woke me up to tell me about a chap from some railway company or other who has exceptionally long service with the same company (why would I need to know that!). He waited until we went to visit my mum in the afternoon to discuss his favourite pair of pants and why they were such a wonderful fit - some things are best left unimagined!

Pants and Pasta 10.01.08

Robbie's new boots arrived yesterday, I struggle to get over excited about shoes of any kind but Robbie was on cloud 9, I dread to think what he would be like if something really exciting happened. We had a bit of a fashion parade, he tried on his new suit and his new boots, he looked great and he was very good at the hand on hip pose and the twirl as he walked across the room and turned to come back again. If he hadn't built his career in the railway industry he would probably have made a very good hairdresser!

This morning Robbie took his foot to the doctors, he insists that it was his boots rather than his wayward leg that caused him to fall this time, but he is still awaiting some tests and the GP said he would chase up the appointment. I guess should expect Robbie to have disobedient feet, after all every other bit of him is unconventional to say the least! Hopefully we will soon find a way to keep him the right way up - and pavements everywhere will breathe a sigh of relief.

After the doctors appointment Robbie had almost an hour to wait for his train to work, so he bought me a coffee (well, tea in my case). We rarely have time to ourselves like that so it was nice. Robbie dominated the conversation with a discussion on the relative merits of different brands of mens underwear. He provided a detailed description of his favourite pair of pants, and his second favourite pair, and the advantages and disadvantages of sports underwear. I was spared any more detail because he had to check the time. He only had a few minutes before his train was due, plenty of time for another little gem. He asked if I knew that Morrisons were the fresh pasta retailer of the year!? I don't know how I have coped for so long without knowing that! Where has all the romance gone?