Given that, recently, I've wrecked quite a few shirts - what with car crashes and fires and the like - John very kindly volunteered to go and buy me some new ones.
Which of course meant Mycroft and Sherlock went, too.
This meant I wasn't going to get M&S two-pack cotton easy-iron shirts.
Sherlock thought I should get this one:
(They didn't, thankfully.)
Work and riots are...well, work and riots. Don't want to dwell on that.
We're going camping soon! I have no idea how the summer holidays have gone from some sort of endless summer-sun-filled time when school became a distant memory and the weeks off stretched into infinity, to there not being enough time to do anything.
So it's rugby practice tomorrow night and Friday night...and the big game is on Sunday. There was another practice, which I (and therefore Danger) missed because I was working, and we're...not a well oiled machine. Yet.
Then camping next week, for a week (can't wait - except we haven't got any gear yet, so we'll need to do that at the weekend, when I'm on nights.), and then we've still got to fit in getting to see Nicky and her lot before everyone's back to school.
Oh, and there are a few police cases still open that I probably ought to solve... and a few bastards who need to stop looting and rioting, or my leave will be cancelled...as it currently is. (Not that I can complain - I'm not the one who's lost my home, or business. But it's....well, it's hard. One of my team just had to wave his missus and kids off to DisneyLand without him this morning.) BoJo did come out today and say he doesn't think Police numbers should be cut though, in light of the riots...give the man a bloody gold star. Don't listen to us when we say that, huh? Wait until it all goes tits up, there are over 100 police officers needing hospital treatment, and we've had to call in back up from every other force who can spare it, then realise there aren't enough of us left to go around.
And I said I wasn't going to dwell on it...