I sang this to John earlier (with obvious changes to the lyrics). Then sang it again with Sherlock's help. Then showed him the video. His eyes went huge and he asked if people really looked like that 'in the old days'. Then quizzed me extensively on exactly which parts of the fashion I might have indulged in.
This would be more of an entry if I wasn't completely, utterly, knackered.
Work has been non-stop. Which is good, but ...yeah. Been sorting warrants, organising searches, interviewing, updating my guv'nor, briefing my teams, down the mortuary to get an update on a different case, and chasing up leads.
This morning I almost didn't get out of bed. Even Sherlock gave up trying to drag me out by the arm and just climbed inbetween me and John, declared us boring and started a monologue about what sort of bat he'd rather be. Afraid I wasn't conscious enough to know the conclusion, sorry.
My cough is managing to be both wheezy and chesty at the same time now. I sound like an asthmatic seal. It's very tedious.
Nicky's been visiting some sorts of assisted-living type places for Mum. She says she wants to go home. Not quite sure how that's going to play out, to be honest. I mean...we can't force her into anything. And she's smoking again.
We get Mycroft home tomorrow. (Unfair! Sherlock announces - not that we get him back, but that Sherlock still has school.) I'm hoping to only be at work until lunch. Well, I was hoping not to go in at all, but that can't happen.
We'll pick him up on the bikes. Be good for Sherlock to have a ride out before we head off for John's birthday weekend.
Sherlock has spent quite some time trying to crack my password on my laptop. He's not happy that he hasn't managed it.