Sunday, January 16, 2011

misleading tags and also pizza

Harry informs me that I tagged the last post 'lestrade' and yet it contained nothing about our date. Apparently, this is unacceptable. I'm not sure how much I should say, considering his sergeant reads this blog (so he tells me), but here we go.

I read to the boys before I left. Sherlock was so tired, he fell asleep in the middle of a chapter (admittedly it was a chapter about different sorts of rocks, so perhaps not the most gripping material he's ever been exposed to). [to which...] (Mycroft you know people don't talk like that. Not ever.) [But it is correct.]

We'll let him have that one.

Lestrade picked me up a bit after eight.
"Where do you want to go?"

"I dunno, where do you want to go?"

"I've just been to Scotland. You should pick."

"That makes no sense, you realize."

In fact, it made perfect sense, although I can't quite recall how just at the moment.

"Does so."

"Does not."

We were both a bit punchy, me from children and him from felons, so rinse and repeat that section of dialogue a few times. Intersperse with giggling.

We got a pizza from this complete pit he knows, the name of which I'm not going to tell you in case this blog has more influence than I think it does. The whole place is about the size of a large broom cupboard, and I wouldn't want it overrun. I'm sure it's violating about seventeen health code regulations, as well. There's actual sawdust on the floor and a dubious looking wood fired oven. The ceiling is black with smoke. The pizza is... Words fail me, literally. If Heaven exists, this is the pizza they serve there.

There are no tables, so we ate in his car. He parked us somewhere with a view of the lights on the Thames. Almost like stars. The drag of the river current makes them all run one into another, ripple and waver, disappear and reform.

After the pizza, well, it's a good thing we both got extra garlic. It was a bit like being sixteen again, although to be honest, I don't remember anything that happened to me at sixteen being near as nice as that.

5 comments:

Anonymous said...

I LOVE YOU NANNY JOHN

John H. D. Watson said...

Er, all right? That's nice. Love is good.

(You see, Harry? Someone else does read this blog!)

Anonymous said...

Awwww, you guys are so cute!

John H. D. Watson said...

Cute, hmm. I think I'll not post photos of myself here so as not to disillusion you. Lestrade on the other hand, well, of course he is. That's just facts.

Anonymous said...

Is it a bit strange that I find myself in absolute love with your little...mmm, family?

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