My Not-so-bright Idea!

Katie, over at "Guilt in Black Panties," talks about going to the museum while sick. (If you haven't read any of Katie's lyrical stories, book and movie reviews, I highly recommend her!!!) It brought to mind the time my mom took us for a ride.

My dad died in '69 and I moved to the ends of the earth in '71. For the uninitiated, that would be Bakersfield. My husband and I frequently went back home to see our friends and my mom and brother. On one of these trips home, my mom surprised us! She had traded in her '69 Cougar and bought a new, bright red, two-door Mercedes!!! It was a beaut! She thought at the time, that it would be a good idea to get a car that would last a long time and wouldn't require much work (hah!).

She decided to take us to Sea World, in Long Beach. It was a cold, dreary, January day and my son announced that he wasn't feeling too good. I asked him what was wrong and he replied that his stomach hurt. He was about six years old and could be quite cantankerous, and I didn't want to take him out if he was ill. I thought maybe a quick trip to the bathroom might cure what ailed him - no luck. He wasn't about to stay home and miss out on something and was starting to pitch a fit. He didn't have a fever so we decided we'd venture forth.

My mom was driving, my husband was in the passenger seat, and I was in the back seat with my three kids (way before seatbelt laws!). As we approached the 91 Fwy., my son started getting that "green around the gills" look. My mom quickly pulled over, we jumped out and he had the "dry-heaves." We got back into the car and he said he felt a lot better. His color was good so off we went!

We managed to get about five miles on the freeway when he looked at me, his face pale as a sheet and I knew we were in big trouble. He said, "Mom, I'm gonna puke." All I could think of was this brand new, very nice, expensive car with the brand new car smell and a small little boy needing to hurl!

I did what every mom would do. I pushed his head into my purse. Yep! He ralphed right smack dab into my purse. Not a drop on the seats or the carpeting - every little bit went right into my purse. I felt mighty proud of myself. That is, until I thought of the consequences...
It's a darned good thing I have a cast iron stomach.

Anyway, we got ourselves put back together again and actually went on to Long Beach. Whatever had been swimming in his stomach made it's way out and he was fine the rest of the day.

The upshot of this tale is that we were the idiots that were placed down in the front seats and got totally soaked when the killer whale rose up out of the water and did a huge belly flop and sprayed water out over the tank. My poor mom was literally soaked up to her neck. She said it was a good thing her hair and makeup stayed dry or she would've jumped in after the whale!

Family trips serve up the main course for many a fine tale.