Once upon a time in the not so distant past there lived a family of seven children under the loving care of their parents...
One morning the eldest son (we shall call him Sir Grouch-a-lot) awoke to find that he had indeed overslept the royal wake-up call of his alarm. His kind and devoted mother (we shall call her Queen Deserves the Respect of her Children but Does not Get-a-lot) went to gently nudge him out of his bed and into the shower. Sir Grouch a-lot did a fair amount of mumbling and grumbling and stumbled into the royal bathroom whilst the rest of the family scurried about the palace (haha) to ready themselves for the 2 mile trip they would travel to see their beloved son/brother off on his very first "away battle" on the field of Lacrosse, in the neighboring village of Pittsburgh.
The father in this tale (we shall name him King Good Hearted), was determined to see his son would arrive at the site of departure on-time AND with a full satchel of food to fill his belly (since this battle was determined to be a double header). Suffice it to say there was a lot of roaring and bellowing within the palace walls due to Sir Grouch-a-lot having missed the royal wake up call and having several siblings (we shall NOT call them servants) underfoot during the preparation to depart.
With the large blue 15 passenger chariot pulling out of the driveway onto the main thoroughfare, young Sir G. (we shall shorten this name to make him seem hip), bellowed at King Good Hearted, "Why are you going this way?!?!" To which the good King responded through clenched teeth, "We are going to grab you a couple sub sandwiches and some royal Powerades." The young prince Grouchy (nicknamed thus by his siblings- who are not servants...) forgot his princely demeanor and roared in return, "FORGET THE FOOD...WE ARE LATE!!! TURN AROUND NOW!!" The King continued on to the local Superette and "gently" slammed his chariot door as he trod towards the market. The Queen, using her tone purposed for calming turned in her chariot throne to face her eldest son and remind him the family's efforts were for his sake. She pointed out this stress would all be over within ten minutes and he would be on his way to battle with food to sustain him. The young prince grouched and muttered and ordered his fellow passengers/siblings to "SHUT UP!" However, the youngest Princess (aptly named Lady So Cute You want to Squeeze-a-lot) continued to address her eldest brother by name over and over until Sir G. would relent and say, "What?" and she would merely smile at him then begin calling his name to repeat the process. The King returned with his purchases for his ungrateful son and tension filled the chariot. The royal passengers were silent while the Queen suggested to her eldest son to tuck the morsels and drink into his backpack so that he could hop out of the chariot upon arrival.
Seven minutes (and one wrong parking lot) later the 15 passenger, dark blue chariot rolled across the cracked pavement of the departure lot in front of the assembled "battle-ready" soldiers (and some other bleary eyed parents). Sir Grouch a-lot barked out "Sorry," to the King as a means of apology and grumped out a "Bye..love you" then threw open the creaky chariot door and whipped around to climb down and out of the ride that had caught the attention of his fellow warriors. Suddenly there was a collective gasp from the rest of the royal family as they caught site of something so horrendous and hilarious at the same time...
Sir Grouch-a-lot was striding towards his astonished peers with his baby sister's pink, fuzzy blanket which was trimmed with delicate pink satin, trailing from his backpack. The Prince had accidentally zipped the very edge of his young sister's "Pinkie" into his bag as he loaded his lunch in a hurry! The Queen could barely garble out a "Waaaitt..." while the young Prince did the confused dance of spinning around and around to see what his family was pointing to. Of course as he turned the blanket would disappear from his view- like a dog chasing it's tail...
The mute look of horrified exasperation sent to his Royal Mother was a plea for death...or Ground- swallowing disappearance. The royal punch from the Queen upon her King's muscled arm silenced the King's guffaws immediately as she pleaded through her own clenched teeth, "Not now-just wait!" A loyal friend raced to help the prince untangle from the "enemy silky" and throw it back in the chariot. The family bid farewell to their beloved Sir Grouch a-lot while wishing him "Good Luck". The youngest charming princess clung to her "Pinkie" afraid it might disappear just as suddenly once again.
As the big, blue chariot rolled away the stunned silence was shattered by the Queen's honking laughter. The King joined in then each of the six remaining siblings added their own laughter to the chorus...Tears streamed down the Queen's cheeks and she begged "Mercy!," for she truly could not breathe- so strongly had her funny bone been tickled. Once she regained her composure she slid her eyes in the direction of the King and whispered, "That was BLOG-ALICIOUS!...but I don't know if I could do that to him." To which the King responded, "If you don't- I will!!" And their peals of laughter trailed out behind them all the way home.