Robert

For the first time for a while I’m free to do anything I want because Robert has taken a turn at looking after the twins. They’ll be asleep for the next two hours and he will almost certainly sit beside them watching them breathe. He has proved himself an expert nappy changer, claiming to have practiced on me though we’ve never tried the adult baby route. Some might say we’ve been babyish throughout our time together. Whatever the case it’s all got to come to a halt for now so I’ve decided to set down some of the things about Robert and his ways that might intrigue your readers.
Some parts of our tale had to be excluded because there was no story around them. There was the time Robert was challenged to a drinking contest by a boaster in the pub down the road from where I live. He won by about three minutes. He drank water while the challenger drank beer and threw up, Robert weed copiously on the grass outside. Then there was the time he couldn’t get his angel costume off at the local pantomime and had to go home in it but couldn’t make it and was spotted squatting in a farm entrance by a man who swore he’d seen a ghost having a pee. One of the other incidents was when we stopped off at a friend’s house for a bath and ended up locked out on the fire escape. We’d omitted to bring a change of clothes from the boat and Robert ran naked across the friend’s lawn to the boat to save me the embarrassment.
If you trawl through our story you’ll find a description of him in bits and pieces. He’s shortish, bald, and thin, like a stick I always say, he knows all sorts of things about the bible, he can tell you the name of any wild flower you see, and he talks too much. He’s far too kind and forgiving so I suspect the disciplining of our little ones may end up as my responsibility. I think he’s very sexy but whenever I tell him so he gets embarrassed. I like watching him from behind when he’s walking; in fact I love watching him moving around anywhere because he’s so elegant.
When he concentrates on something it’s hard to get him to divert his attention particularly when he’s reading a book. He’ll read absolutely anything from adverts and pornography to philosophy and science fiction. He once told me he had read the whole of the works of CG Jung and showed them to me on the library shelves.
Another side to him is his interest in agriculture. He occasionally goes off for a whole day to work on a farm driving tractors. He also drives canal boats which you already know but he can equally take over a huge barge on the Humber and his friends often ring him up to go and work at weird hours of the day and night.
These things are not revealed till you’ve known him for quite a while and I’m still expecting a few more surprises. It’s only since the birth of our tinies that I found out he is a well–respected children’s entertainer so I’m looking forward to the day they are old enough to enjoy his antics. As I think over our story I’m afraid you get the impression that he’s a bit of a clown. He certainly does have a juvenile streak but it’s an act that he puts on to keep other people amused. Another surprise was to find that he is quite unmoved at the prospect of giving a talk to large numbers of people; a couple of months ago when I could do nothing but struggle from bed to chair and back each day he went off to address a meeting of nearly a hundred people who had been let down by their appointed speaker and he talked to them for the best part of an hour about the joys of approaching parenthood when he had only had a couple of hours to prepare.
None of this relates to the wetting theme, it’s just to show that there’s more to him than appears in our story. One event that is definitely ‘on topic’ made me laugh so much I had one of my genuine accidents. He got his foot caught in a tangle of bedclothes, which in turn were trapped in the frame of the bed. It was the middle of the night and I was fast asleep so, like the gentleman he is, he wouldn’t wake me. There’s no telling how long he lay there wanting to go to the loo but when I rolled over onto him, half awake and feeling amorous, he tried to let me know that he needed to relieve himself before we went further. It takes me ages to wake up so whatever he said made very little impression and I carried on kissing and cuddling eventually lying on top of him and wiggling up and down.
He made a loud noise that stopped me. I knelt up above him to open my eyes and see what was wrong. The bedclothes slid down my back and he lay there below me bare as the day he was born and stiff as a poker – that is – his special part was stiff. He said, “My foot”, then he peed. As it was pointing straight up his body he peed on his own chin.
I could see no connection between his foot and what he was doing and it seemed to me that he had got the word for penis mixed up so I said gently, “No dear that’s your willy”. It was when I realized what he was talking about that I had my accident. After I had got out of bed and untangled his foot we both surveyed the results and fell on each other. We were both still quite tired so when the damp bedding had been removed we started to remake the bed but got no further than wrapping ourselves together in a sheet and flopping onto the carpet where we fell asleep. In the morning we found ourselves still wrapped tightly together like babes in the wood.
One further tale before I go back for another feeding session.
Rissa and her football player came to see us on the boat one day. Rissa is a little thin girl and her husband is enormous. I wouldn’t say he’s much of an intellectual so when he and Robert were left alone to talk they have difficulty in finding common ground. I told Rissa that we shouldn’t leave them alone for too long in case they ran out of subject matter. I needn’t have worried, my Robert turned out to be a knowledgeable supporter of Formula 1 motor racing and so was Rissa’s Don.
We’d gone into town to see if we could find some summer clothes while Don and Robert dealt with a huge bottle of beer. Our expedition had been more than successful. I found a skirt that met Robert’s criteria, above the knee and not too tight. I’d also discovered that I could wear the skimpy tops that are so fashionable as long as I wear a good firm bra, so I’d bought both. Rissa had come back with a swimsuit, a beach towel and some dark glasses. We had also bought several silk head scarves.
As our party reunited it was clear that the boys were in no state to go public, indeed they were too drunk to eat safely. Our first sight of them was Don pretending to be a racing car at Monaco roaring out of the tunnel there. Robert in a deck chair swayed from side to side as his Ferrari made some overtaking manoeuvre.
When we joined them and showed off our purchases Rissa thought it would be best to sober up before going home so we settled down to drink water with them till the beer had washed out of their systems. Whether Don had any conception of the watersporting way before that day is unknown but he surely did by the time he went home. Rissa had already taken to it as a girl when we had been at secretarial college together.
Sitting on the boat deck we knocked back more and more water but it failed to make Robert any more sober. He so far lost control of himself that he found it too difficult to heave up from his chair when it was time for a pee. He was in full flight about the pleasures of life on the boat and its freedom from normal rules so it seemed natural for him to illustrate. ‘For instance’ he said, “you can pee whenever you want” whereupon he leaned back and peed through his shorts, it splashed on the deck and Rissa giggled. Don was flabbergasted. “Hey man, you just weed”. That’s not the word he used.
At the time I was bit worried that he’d gone too far. Searching for a way to redeem the situation I did the first thing that came into my head and joined him. Don’s mouth fell open and he looked across at Rissa as if to say ‘Let’s get out of here’. She knew that the first time is the most difficult and helped ease the tension by saying, “It’s all right everyone on a boat does it.” and delicately damped her new swimsuit. If he hadn’t been so drunk I think he might have been more offended but he gazed with his mouth still open. He looked round at his three wet friends, shrugged his shoulders, concentrated and joined in. The puddles joined up and trickled away into the canal. He began to laugh and as he did he peed some more and couldn’t stop.
Us girls stood and left them promising to bring some sandwiches from the cabin. When we returned it was to find them both asleep in their wet clothes. “Naughty little boys” said Rissa. To call a 6foot 2 giant a naughty little boy took my fancy and ever since then I’ve called him an NLB. The water, the rest, the food and the cool of the evening restored them to a more normal state of mind.
Rissa and Don went on their way with him pleading with his wife not to let the manager know he had been drunk since it’s against the rules for him to drink on the week of a match. Months later he told us he had enjoyed the experience so much that he had made use of his new daring to ease himself whilst training and he said no–one was any the wiser.
Now I hear a grizzling from the other room and that’s the sign that ‘Hilda’ wants feeding so I’ll have to go. ‘Stanley’ will not sleep for long if it’s feeding time so I shall have to leave this and return another time.
Love from May XX
Robert and May