Voting

Well, it's that season again! Time to vote for a new president! I'm going to vote. I'm gonna walk on down the street to the fire station where a lot of old ladies will look at me like, "Aren't you too young to vote?" One lady will ask my name then she will pass a paper on to another lady who will look suspicious while she confirms my address. Then she will give a "go-ahead" nod to an old man who will give me a pencil and ballot. Then I'm gonna walk into a little cubby hole that makes me feel claustrophobic while I try to figure out what I'm supposed to do with this pencil because it is still hard for me to understand why we are still using pencils in this day and age. I just fill in the circles?? Can't someone erase it? I will proudly vote for the man who I think deserves to be president (aka BigFoot), and think Okay, all done. Then the ballot will jump out of my hands and dance around the little make-shift writing table singing Nananana Boo Boo!! You still have 40 more votes to cast for political positions you don't understand and you don't care about!! So get going! My hands will get a little sweaty because I have no idea who Snugglehoffer is versus Bittletonman, and I wonder can I just leave these answers blank?? I wonder if it's okay for me to peak out my paper thin curtain behind me and say I'm sorry, I didn't study well enough, can I just be done? But then the old ladies will really get suspicious and maybe my ballot will be thrown away because I only got 10% for voting for the president and maybe I'll get arrested because I peaked out my curtain. So I do the unthinkable and just sort of vote for any person who has a big letter R after their name, even though I am doubting the R behind my own name ever since the R party picked McCain. I feel like a bad person, because maybe I am voting for bad-choice people. What if some of these R people are pro-choice? What if some of these R people think we need to pack more Muslim countries full of our troops? Then I realize, Oh yeah, I live in Illinois. It's all gonna be deomocrat anyway. Like my vote actually counts. I fill in a few more holes and walk over to a guy standing at a machine. I slip my silly ballot into the machine and get my I VOTED sticker, which should read I VOTED BUT I AM STILL TOO YOUNG. SORRY.

Then I will come home and watch the presidential election and watch Obama win because, let's face it, people, George Bush was in the White House for 8 years and the American people are refreshed by Obama's difference. They are ready for someone young, vibrant, and idealistic. But Bigfoot won't win, so no matter what, my I VOTED sticker will soon lose its stickiness.

But I will wear it proudly for the day to say I VOTED. I CAN VOTE. I HAVE FREEDOM TO VOTE. It is not a duty, but simply a priviledge.

People in oppressed countries around the world would give anything to be able to wear your sticker. So go vote!!! (But study first.)