I was tidying the kitchen this morning (and possibly singing. I refuse to say), when a 5 yr old leapt through the door, a massive grin on his face, and his hands behind his back.
Everyone who has ever met this 5 yr old would immediately go into high alert. My hand was halfway to my belt for my baton before he'd stopped moving. (Not to hit him - to protect myself against what ever spider/bug/pigeon/chemical experiment he had.)
And then he produced a brightly coloured piece of card, with a large, sparkly, spider on it, complete with furry pipe-cleaner legs. And 'Happy D.I. Day' written on the front. With more glitter.
Got to admit I was sort of speechless. I mean, it's not a situation I ever imagined I'd be in.
"It's fathers' day and you're not my father but we made them at school and you're my DI and I made you this", was the explanation. And inside it said 'You're the best DI in the world'.
So clearly, I had to pick Sherlock up for a hug, because who wouldn't? Sometimes, he can be breathtakingly sweet. He's just got such a simple, straightforward view on life. (Although I think his sample size for good or bad DIs is rather small.)
And now I've spent the past couple of hours sitting on Mycroft's bed, with him. Because he didn't think Sherlock's actions were appropriate.
I feel terrible for Mycroft sometimes. He's been through so much, and he's so grown up, but he's still just a boy.
He was clearly a bit upset when he saw Sherlock's cards (I'll let John tell you about his). And headed off to his room. So I took him some tea up and asked if I could stay.
He doesn't talk easily. And I know just what that's like. Clearly he remembers his Dad, and it's very hard for him to see Sherlock accepting John and I in that role, when Mycroft respects his Dad's memory so much.
I suppose we're both the same in the respect that we grew up without a Father, but quite different in that I was glad mine had gone - not that I didn't have one. I'd have loved a Dad to do things with, but glad my particular one left - and he really isn't. And we both grew up too fast - although he's still a lot more grown up than I am.
So it's an odd day. Four blokes in the house and only one Father between us. And I'm not entirely sure John's speaking to his.
(Mycroft did say I could mention all this. I wouldn't have otherwise.)