X and Innie both wanted to hear something about me and Harry growing up... Let's see.
There's the story I told Sherlock once, wherein I tried to scale our fridge to get the cake our mum had put up there for safe keeping. Harry was ostensibly watching me since our parents were out, but she was in the next room. I managed to fall and break my arm. She put me on her bike and rode all the way to the hospital, singing Folsom Prison Blues - a song which, yes, I liked even at six years old.
And before that... One of my first memories is of being maybe three or four and getting pushed off the swing by some older kids. Harry hit one of them in the stomach with her roller skates. She got in a huge amount of trouble for it, mostly because she refused to apologise to him. I still think it was pretty brave of her. She was only seven herself.
When I was seven and she was ten, we found this baby bird. It was just sitting in the middle of the road, no nest anywhere nearby that we could find. We took it home and hid it in my room. We had all these plans around taking care of it and what we'd do when it grew up, how we could train it to carry messages and spy on our evil neighbour. (Note: not actually evil, just didn't like us stealing his apples.)
We made it a little bed in a shoebox and went to the library to look up what we should feed it. When we got back the poor thing was stone dead. Either it was already in bad shape when we found it, or we'd scared it into shock, or both.
She said I must've held it wrong or something - she didn't mean it, just one of those things you say when you're a kid and something's gone wrong and you don't want it to be your fault. But I took it to heart, started crying and couldn't stop. Which is funny when I think about it. I didn't often get into that sort of state. Anyway, she took it back, said it wasn't my fault, said it would be okay and we'd have a funeral for it.
Eventually I calmed down enough to help her dig a hole in the garden. We wanted to make the shoebox nicer somehow, since it was now a coffin. The only thing we could find for decoration was wrapping paper, so we wrapped it in horribly jolly snowmen, stuck a bow on top, and buried it. The marker was two sticks tied together into a wobbly cross. It was behind the lilac, and our parents never even noticed it.
There's the story I told Sherlock once, wherein I tried to scale our fridge to get the cake our mum had put up there for safe keeping. Harry was ostensibly watching me since our parents were out, but she was in the next room. I managed to fall and break my arm. She put me on her bike and rode all the way to the hospital, singing Folsom Prison Blues - a song which, yes, I liked even at six years old.
And before that... One of my first memories is of being maybe three or four and getting pushed off the swing by some older kids. Harry hit one of them in the stomach with her roller skates. She got in a huge amount of trouble for it, mostly because she refused to apologise to him. I still think it was pretty brave of her. She was only seven herself.
When I was seven and she was ten, we found this baby bird. It was just sitting in the middle of the road, no nest anywhere nearby that we could find. We took it home and hid it in my room. We had all these plans around taking care of it and what we'd do when it grew up, how we could train it to carry messages and spy on our evil neighbour. (Note: not actually evil, just didn't like us stealing his apples.)
We made it a little bed in a shoebox and went to the library to look up what we should feed it. When we got back the poor thing was stone dead. Either it was already in bad shape when we found it, or we'd scared it into shock, or both.
She said I must've held it wrong or something - she didn't mean it, just one of those things you say when you're a kid and something's gone wrong and you don't want it to be your fault. But I took it to heart, started crying and couldn't stop. Which is funny when I think about it. I didn't often get into that sort of state. Anyway, she took it back, said it wasn't my fault, said it would be okay and we'd have a funeral for it.
Eventually I calmed down enough to help her dig a hole in the garden. We wanted to make the shoebox nicer somehow, since it was now a coffin. The only thing we could find for decoration was wrapping paper, so we wrapped it in horribly jolly snowmen, stuck a bow on top, and buried it. The marker was two sticks tied together into a wobbly cross. It was behind the lilac, and our parents never even noticed it.
59 comments:
On the one hand, I want to go back in time and hug both of you. (Then yell a lot for the refrigerator incident. Then hug some more.)
On the other hand--that funeral is, ultimately, so sweet!
The caring doc, already showing through even that young (well, doc, vet, same thing when you're a kid).
You are amazingly kind and lovely.
The innocence of that funeral makes my heart ache. I can't think of anything better to say.
RR - in my defense, it was my birthday cake! I think she might've given me a taste of the frosting at least...
L - I think you give me too much credit. I was mostly upset at the thought that it might've been my fault.
Cranky - it was good of her to think of it. Made me feel better anyway.
You still rescued it in the first place! Caring, you are. Still picking up waifs, strays, lost DIs to this day.
John, I would not have been at all upset at you having a go at the cake, just at your hurting yourself doing it. :)
(And yeah, or even better lick the bowl. My mom always let us lick the mixing bowl and mixer blades when she baked cakes.)
And ouch, what a birthday!
I wouldn't apologise because he bloody deserved it! Anyway, you did the same for me later on.
I tried. Don't remember it doing much good. Maybe I should've used roller skates.
I'm starting to get scared. My intentions toward your brother are entirely honourable, I assure you, Harry.
He was bigger than me even, let alone John! And older, at least ten.
Don't push him off any swings and we won't have a problem.
Right. I promise I didn't push him off anything in the park at the weekend. Whatever he says.
You pulled me off the roundabout...eventually.
He promised you sprinkles on your ice cream, though! We all heard/saw it.
:)
(Good on you, Harry! Big bullies deserve what they get. But I didn't say that where any children can hear.)
Heh - I got pushed off a swing by bullies when I was a kid. My older brothers (who were younger and smaller than the bullies) were trying to persuade me that discretion was the better part of valour; I knew that I was there before the big nasty boys and therefore didn't have to move no matter what. Getting pushed off the swing was ignominious, but what really hurt was that I sat back up just as the swing swung back towards me, and I got smacked in the nose by an inch-thick plank of wood.
Still reckon I was right though. And I never did learn to pick my battles :-p
I promised nothing!
And ouch, Nameless.
Ouch indeed. (You were right though.)
Ow, Nameless. That had to hurt. Well done for standing your ground, though.
*winces in sympathy for Nameless*
(I never learned to pick my battles either--but I never got hit in the face by a board for it.)
I promised nothing!
He asked, and you didn't say no. On a playground, that is a promise.
He asked, and you didn't say no. On a playground, that is a promise.
Man, is it ever. I've been caught by that one a few times "I asked for a candy bar and you said ok!" "What? I didn't say anything like...oh." What I'd said was nothing, but that implies the okayness of the request.
I was confronted once by someone that tried to bully me when I was 13, but I was near my full height then, about 5'9", and she was maybe 5'2". All I did was take a step near enough to her to tower over her, and she bolted. Which is good, because if she'd hit me I don't know what I'd have done! :D
Well he didn't get sprinkles, so I'm obviously a terrible person.
*shakes head sadly*
Maybe he'll let you make it up to him by getting him sprinkles next time!
Thanks for the ouches, all - amazingly nothing got broken (although my nose is a slightly odd shape), so I'm saving my sympathy for poor little broken-armed John, injured in the noble pursuit of cake :-)
That bird story is heartbreakingly adorable, Doc. And Harry sounds very resourceful and determined.
Thanks for answering my (and Innie's) question, John. :). The bird story is both sweet and sad. Poor bird, though I'm sure it was already in rather a bad way when you found it. You both clearly have very kind hearts to do your best to save it, feel bad when you couldn't, and then do everything you could to give it a meaningful sendoff.
I have a very vivid memory along the same lines as your second story: I was four and was out sledding with my sister. Some older boys (older than both of us, probably 9 or 10?) threw hard packed snowballs right in my face as I came down the hill. I, of course, started to cry as I was both startled and hurt. Next thing I knew, my 7-year-old big sister had jumped on the back of one of them, tackling him into a snowbank and pushing his face hard into it.
Not the most reasoned response, sure, but her explanation as she walked me home was that SHE was the only person allowed to beat me up. Oh big sisters. ;)
(anyone who sees Danger on here in the middle of the night, tell him he's brilliant, wonderful and should be letting his boyfriend cuddle him to sleep. Right?)
Got it, L! Now, go to sleep, yourself!
John, I'm assuming from Lestrade's comments here and on his blog, that it's your first day at the surgery tomorrow? If so, good luck - you won't need it, because you'll be great :-)
Lestrade - will do :-)
L - that's cheating! Somehow...
Thanks Nameless.
All's fair in love and war, Doc. And since I know the two of you aren't on a battlefield...
we're happy to do it anyway John. It's all true.
It's not cheating when he's just asking us to be honest. Hopefully you won't see this until morning, but I tell you three times: you are an excellent doctor and a smart, caring person, and anyone who is lucky enough to be your patient will have hit the jackpot. And what I tell you three times is true.
Good morning Doc. As instructed by Lestrade, and because it's true, you're brilliant and wonderful and I wish you all the best for today. Any nerves you may have are needless.
Haven't commented in ages (in the absence of anything witty or pertinent to contribute) but wanted to say good luck with the first day of the new job, John! I'm sure that you'll be great at it - you seem like a very caring person and your patients will be lucky to have you.
The bird story was so sweet, and very sad. It's an unfortunate truth that baby birds are ridiculously difficult to keep alive, even when not in shock and when doted upon by a small army of people bringing food. The amount they eat has to be seen to be believed.
However, I think that what tugged at my heartstrings more was the fact that your parents knew nothing about it. Do tell me to bugger off if this is too personal a remark, but somehow I can't imagine you being equally as unaware if Mycroft & Sherlock were that upset about something and... well, I think it says a lot.
Lestrade - your case sounds like it's tough going, but well done on catching him. That's really great work.
Sherlock - I was at Kew Gardens on the weekend and found out about this bit of it - Climbers and Creepers. You get to crawl inside a giant pitcher plant to see how it works, and visit a glass-walled apiary to see how bees make honey. It made me think of you! Perhaps if you ask John and Lestrade nicely then they'll take you for a visit.
How big is it? Is it a whole room inside a beehive? I want to go! Lestrade can we go tonight?? Say yes while John's still at stupid work.
Sherlock, John will finish work in time to fetch you from school - although Mrs T knows if he's a little late it's because he's at work. We'll see about going another time.
Kate L - thanks, that does look good fun.
Whennnnn? Tomorrow?
Thank you, Kate.
Not tomorrow. Maybe the weekend or Christmas holidays
Lestrade - you're very welcome. Although I'm not sure whether you'll still be thanking me after Sherlock's vociferous pleading :)
Sherlock - I can understand your eagerness to visit (I also love plant and science-y exhibitions and interactive stuff) but I don't think you could do it justice if you went for just an evening. Much better to wait for a weekend or holidays, when you can go for the whole day (perhaps with Mycroft too, if he's home) and really appreciate all that's there. As for the apiary - a whole room would be very cool! But I don't think that bees can maintain hives that big. I suspect that it will be a normal-sized hive but with one panel replaced by glass so you can see inside. They're fascinating animals; if you watch then you'll probably see some of them waggle-dancing to tell the others where the flowers are.
Well said. We'll got for a day sometime, Shortstuff
(And don't worry, Sherlock. John will always be there when you need him.)
Thanks, everyone. It went pretty well.
Kate - those exhibits sound amazing, thanks for pointing them out. I think Mycroft would enjoy them too, at least the bees.
Why do I get the feeling "pretty well" is Dangerese for "I knocked their socks off"? Like anyone but you expected anything less...
:)
I was about to say pretty much what DW just said, so instead of repeating I'll just say woo hoo! (Only quietly, so as not to exacerbate L's migraine.)
knew you'd be amazing :) love you
Yay! Glad you're feeling good about it.
To come in on John's side for a moment as a person who has had plenty of 'first day on the new job' days, even when you know it's a job you're going to be great at there's always first day jitters. The work is the work, but it takes time to get to know everyone, and what the social dynamics of the new organization are like, and how you're going to fit in.
So I'm glad, and not surprised, to hear it went well John. And also, I totally relate to the bout of nerves you were having.
John - I glad it went well :-)
kholly - yeah, it was just a bit odd. Not what I was used to, and it'd been so long. It went fine though.
L - love you too, and thank you. Mrs Hudson's made dinner for us. Do you feel up to eating it?
I'll try. Your magic pills and magic touch have made me feel a lot better.
Thanks Mrs H, you're a star.
Oh, and Kate - it's not too personal. I suppose I never thought about it? Our parents were always pretty busy, but it's also a much different situation. The whole world knows when Sherlock's upset, and when Mycroft's here I can pick up on it most of the time, but they're also with me a lot more than I was with my parents. Harry and I were on our own a lot, in ways that just aren't possible now, especially not in the middle of London.
So, was Sarah impressed by your skills? Is she happy that you're not going to knock off half her patients?
Ha, I imagine she is, yes. I didn't fall asleep, you'll be pleased to know, and I don't think anyone had any complaints. It wasn't anything particularly difficult, mainly viruses, one sprained ankle. I don't know if it's always like that or if she was just giving me easy ones for my first day.
I never had the slightest doubt you'd be anything but great. And why would you think you'd fall asleep??
Partly because I woke up four times last night, partly because it was about all I could think of that would get me thrown out on my ear.
And you didn't co-ordinate your waking up with my waking up? Tsk.
So...might I get to meet Sarah, sometime?
Yeah, we should really work on that.
Of course. You could come by for lunch tomorrow if you like? I won't have long because my hours are so short as it is, but you could meet her and we could get a sandwich or something? After that I'm not sure when she'll have a use for me next.
i'll have to see what I'm doing - lots probably, after bunking off today. I don't want you think I'm checking up on you, either. I can wait. I'm sure she'll want you back asap.
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