Harold's Other Life

Harold stopped on his way to the coffee pot to take notice of the large trophy sitting dead center on the dining room table. It was a fine looking piece of work, standing nearly two feet in height with a little golden man frozen in mid-motion atop a large loving cup. It appeared to be for bowling.

Hefting up his new find, Harold read the inscription “Congratulations on your perfect score PJ-man”. Shaking his head, he walked into what had become a trophy room and set the latest addition in open space on one of the shelves. There were others. The karaoke Golden Mike made him feel inwardly proud even though he had no idea where it came from.

He knew, but then again, he didn’t know precisely.

Coffee mug in hand, Harold trudged back to the bedroom to get ready for work. As he applied shaving cream to his grey and black stubble, he could not help but notice the huge bags under his eyes. He looked as if he hadn’t slept in days. He’d heard that people working night shifts often had trouble sleeping during the day, but this was getting ridiculous.

The next morning after work, Harold fumbled his way into the house. This would be his chance. He was so tired; there was no way he would have any trouble sleeping. Five minutes later, he was dead to the world, snoring contently.

Ten minutes later, he was backing out of the driveway.

Harold got up late in the evening to get ready for the night shift. Stopping on his way to the coffee pot he noticed the small trophy sitting dead center on the dining room table. It read “World’s Greatest Dad.”

Huh? he thought nervously, making a mental note to follow-up on that one.

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