Alan’s List.

My father is a man of lists. If he goes shopping, he must have a list. His role as chief-shopper is completely redundant without a piece of paper telling him exactly what to get. I genuinely think that if he got to the shop and discovered that he didn’t have the list, he would turn round and come home again. He has no capability to think outside of the list. For instance, he may have just been in the bathroom and found out that we have no toilet roll in the house. Alas, my mother has forgotten to put it onto the list. Alan goes to the shop, with his list, and his prior knowledge of our lack of toilet paper. He returns from the shop. “Did you get toilet roll Alan?” “…wasn’t on the list.”

My father has a checklist of everything he needs to do with his day. This seems fairly normal, I’ll grant you, but he takes it to infinitesimal detail. Rather than writing “empty the bins” he does the following.

• Empty bin kitchen
• Empty bin dining room
• Empty bin sitting room
• Empty bin bathroom
• Empty bin T’s bedroom
• Empty bin J’s bedroom
• Empty bin main bedroom
• Take bins out

I’m not kidding. Another example is when he arrives home after work. This is a genuine extract which I have just read.

• Shirt in washing bin.
• Hang up coat
• Hang up jacket
• Hang up tie
• Hang up trousers
• Casual gear on
• Clean shoes
• Shoes away
• Slippers on

I have also just read the following pertaining to doing the ironing.

• Ironing board out
• Iron out
• Iron filled
• Iron on
• Iron shirt 1
• Iron shirt 2
• Iron shirt 3
• Iron shirt 4
• (you get the ironing shirt pattern – it goes on)
• Iron empty
• Iron cooled
• Iron put away
• Ironing board put away.

Dad doesn’t like me to read his list because I always end up reading it aloud to the family and nearly wetting myself. I have suggested on a number of occasions that rather than listing out every single action to do with a chore, he just writes down the chore. “Surely, ‘Ironing’ would suffice as a reminder to iron, Dad? Surely you’re not going to forget to do one of the small processes associated with ironing?”

I can just imagine it;

Mum: Alan these shirts look a bit creased. Did you say you ironed them?
Dad: Yes, I did it earlier.
Mum: But the iron’s at the back of the cupboard where I put it yesterday…
Dad: …iron?
Mum: Yes… for the ironing!
Dad: ‘Iron Out’ wasn’t on the list… so I just ironed with the palm of my hand.

He also has a section of his list dedicated to buying and reading the newspaper. As I’m sure you’ve come to suspect, however, it’s broken down into step by step fashion whereby he outlines every section of the newspaper, and every crossword puzzle in the newspaper, and crosses it out once he’s read it. No, seriously.

However, the purpose of my blog entry today, after what has been months and months, is the fact that I have found a new and even more obsessive behaviour. For some time now I’ve known that when he reads a book, he adds all of the chapters to his list, and ticks them off when he’s read them. I believe he’s also created a page number system, as well as a percentage completion system. Today, however, dad was chopping logs in the garden for our log store. His list has a new section entitled “Log Chops”, whereby he has been counting how many chops he has been doing as he’s been going along, and is adding it to his list.

• Log chops; 50 – DONE
• Log Chops; 100 – DONE
• Log Chops; 150 – DONE

He then counts all of the tasks that he has shaded as being complete, and works out the percentage of his tasks that he’s completed. He then shades out the percentage that he has done so far at the back of his list.

If I ever do anything that even marginally resembles this, then I am counting on you, dearest reader to do the following;

• Buy gun
• Buy bullets
• Drive to James’ house (See itemised directions, including gear changes, indication, and mirror checks)
• Get gun from boot.
• Load gun
• Cock gun
• Shoot James in the temple.
• Percentage complete – 100% dead.

Thank you so much.