When I was a kid I had terrible bouts with motion sickness. I’ve thrown up in purses, back seats, front seats, and even baseball helmets. The toughest journeys were those in the summer to New Hampshire – a truly intimidating 4 hours away. One fateful trek left my brother holding my ankles as I hung out the back of the family van doing what I had to do. I don’t think I’ll ever forget the look on the driver’s face behind us as my Dad swerved down the highway. Fortunately these days aren’t so bad but if we hang out, please, let me drive.
Until next time!