"Oh, it'll be around, somewhere," he said dismissively, "my umbrella, I mean, not my head, which I hope is still firmly attached," he added, tapping the side of his head. "Cheeky!" he said, although it was clear he was quite amused. The Doctor's instincts were usually enough to save the universe, but they still made him put orange juice in his cereal and his shoes in the freezer.
The Doctor gave another dramatic groan and pressed his palms against his forehead as if it were just too much to bear. "You're a real toughie, aren't you?" he whined, "that's practically blackmail!" he exaggerated.