A bit of history. I always try and bring something back from a work-related trip home for A, who never got to come with me (as most people do, I’m sure). More often than not, that gift is rubber duck-related. So on a school trip to EuroDisney, I made it my mission to find a Donald Duck rubber duck. That’s an obvious link, right? Right. If there’s one place you can guarantee Disney won’t have any compunction cashing in on, it’d be the bathtub. The mind boggles at the prospect of ‘Little Mermaid’ merch alone.
But no, a Donald Duck rubber duck was nowhere to be seen nor had, so I ended up getting a Tigger mug. Which she hated. Fair enough, so the mug remained in my custody, and accompanied me to work as my office mug, to take up residence in the staff room. I even put my name on the bottom in Sharpie and everything. And folks are good about that sort of thing – no-one really takes anyone else’s mug, and no-one gets shirty if one’s taken by accident.
A couple of days went by the other week when I couldn’t find Tigger, my bouncy-bouncy-fun-fun-fun-fun-fun caffeine-filled pal. And that’s part of the joy of having your own mug at work, right? It’s that comforting bit of warm rocket fuel from a familiar receptacle. Or as I put it in an email to all staff:
From: jim@work
Sent: 20 May 2011 08:12
To: allstaff@work
Subject: Missing Tigger mug
Has anyone seen my mug? It is the only receptacle capable of delivering
me pure, caffeinated joy, as having coffee drunk out of him is what
Tiggers do best.
Tigger was found by myself, some time later by myself, having left him in the library during a meeting a few days previous.
Needless to say, our reunion was one of enviable joy.
