My Chariot Awaits

I've got a cush life. Like a queen.

I can't complain.

My brother and sister wait on me hand and foot. They even designed my own special "chariot." Fitting for a queen, right?

Okay, so it's a cardboard box but that pillow, well that pillow makes it extra special. It shows they care. They care about my comfort. And queens need to be comfortable.

And so, as I take my royal ride, I close my eyes and visualize being escorted through the palace streets.

But in the midst of that visualization I come to a startling thought...

were chariots more for war? Should I be picturing myself going into battle? Okay, that could put a damper on my whole post. War, really? I don't like that idea. I'm not ready for such a heavy thematic dream. Not only does this idea become unsettling it also impedes my otherwise pleasant ride, soon crashing me back into reality.

You know, like this...

All because I lack an education vivid enough to portray the accurate details to entertain my imagination, thus catapulting me into a hazardous situation.

How embarassing.

It just goes to show kids, an education is even an important part of our imaginations.

So...

Learn your facts. Stay in school. Or your posh chariot ride may turn into a war tragedy.