I wake in the night feeling … questionable. My guts manage to hold on to their contents and I drift back to sleep. Consequently I abandon my Sunday morning shift and have a lie in. I eventually get up and persuade the kids to help me wash the car: a much easier chore now I only have the one car.
I spend much of the day assuming the Elderbeast and I will settle down in the evening for episodes 3 and 4 of The Defenders. Then he pulls the rug out from under me by asking to watch Sherlock instead. For whatever reason, he has an urge to watch Sherlock from the beginning. I’m happy to indulge him: as TV goes, it’s at least fairly ‘thinky’ TV.