Of ducks and ginger ale

Do you ever crack yourself up?  I do, on a regular basis.  I'm sitting at my desk right now, 'working' - which means that I'm spending more time than I should checking on facebook updates, gazing blankly into space, or drinking endless cups of whatever takes me away from said desk (Don't judge me!) - while turning a phrase for the current writing project over and over in my mind like the sea with a rock, ever so slowly wearing it into shape. (Don't laugh at me!)

While that artistic endeavor - which feels like mental torture at times - goes on, I've been engaged in a very silly cyber conversation (cybersation?) about a plasticine duck, of all things. It doesn't even matter what I said (you can be sure it was very witty); the important thing, the reason I bring it up, is because I am now like ginger ale, with happy-bubbles fizzing through me.

We all need moments like that in our day, don't we? Moments of silly-induced happiness.

The duck that did it