You Quack Me Up

Awwwww so we meet again!

Let me take you back in time to when I was working at Disneyland when I was around 19-21 years old. I went to school full time, I ran cross country and track. I also worked weekends, holidays, and all summer at Disneyland. I was pretty much always tired and hungry for that matter. I used to work closing shifts so that I could avoid the crowds and the heat. The only problem with that is if you worked until 2:30 AM, your lunch break was after all the restaurants were closed. I would just pack my dinner and eat it in a break room. One day I bit into my sandwich and noticed that something was wrong. My dad and left me a sweet note IN my sandwich. The ink bleed out into my food making it inedible. His joke left me without dinner that night. My dad has always liked to play little jokes here and here. Simple ones like moving something on some ones desk without telling them for months and months. Bigger tricks like seeing a coworkers shoes in a bathroom stall and turning off the light leaving them in pitch black as they are most vulnerable. I can go on forever.

As of late there has been this little duck that has been the object of humor. I have no idea where he found it. I have no idea why he picked it up. I also have no idea why he keeps hiding it in my things. I visit with my parents and find this little duck stashed in my purse, bag of oranges my mom picked for me, or in my car some place. Now and then I find it before I leave the house. I once found it in my coat pocket as I was about to leave. I of course had to find some place to stash it without him noticing. That little duck has been back and forth between our houses I don't know how many times. This has to be at least a year of random duck deliveries. I can't help but laugh at the duck when I see it. Not only for the fact that this ugly duck toy has been passed to me without me knowing, but for the fact that I don't know why. How did this all start? Well, I know one thing. I am not going to be the one left with it. I have to plot and scheme it's return. My fine feathered friend has not see the last of the Harsen home. It will find it's way back.
Oh and dad, I love you too.