I don't get it.
What a killjoy.
They come in unlimited charming varietes in gift shops around the UK: Shakespeare duck, Pharoah duck, artist duck (okay, I actually do have that one), judge duck, Bishop duck, Cardinal duck, even SHERLOCK DUCK.
But my tyrannical H U S B A N D is afraid that it might turn into a "problem".
Whatever THAT means!Pff!
However, I still like him because he looks smokin' in a deerstalker:
In fact, since we finished the wonderful first seasons of Sherlock it kind of feels like my life is over until 2014 [weep and wail, gnash of teeth]. So I have to hold on to the one I love, you know? I have to look past the rough parts of marriage (these ducks are so FUNNY! What's his problem?) and appreciate what my partner does have.
Like the decency to take me to 221B Baker street to the Sherlock Holmes museum for a consolatory pilgrimmage:
Ah, the mystery!
Move over, Irene Adler.
There's a new sleuth in town.
With a decent stash of pipes.
And plenty of creatively murdered corpses.
And cool... things.
And Professor Moriarty. Who is surprisingly... terrifying.... in person.
So. Okay, fine. Ducks aside, my life is pretty grand. And (hopefully) safe during Sherlock's hiatus. Plus, I love Jacob more than anything, anti-bathtime-fun prejudices and all.
Love, good old-fashion tourist traps, and friendly Victorian constables,
P.S. *Stay tuned* for: Scotland and Paris! YahoOOoo!