I just now got around to snapping a shot of Dad's finished Donald. He loves him and has him perched behind our coffee grinder on the countertop. Although my mom has always been the more chatty and bubbly of the two (wonder who I got it from), Dad is the one who doles out those rare and infinitely special compliments. He's told me on three separate occasions, out of the blue, that I'm very talented and that he loves his Donald. He is especially glad that I painted a cheery Donald, as he thinks the angry duck is a little over-exposed.
I love you, Dad.
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