A Sea of Yuck

When my parents had just three young children we would often spend parts of the summer travelling by car to friends and family in Bellingham, Washington and Red Deer and Calgary, Alberta. Some time in the late 1980's ( I remember this because we were in the 1985 Ford Tempo, the last and only brand new car my parents have owned to date) we were travelling to some place, Cal (my younger brother) was in the front, middle seat between Mom and Dad and Kimberley (my youngest sister) was in back with me. As I sat staring out at the country passing by from passenger's side rear sick, Kim sat playing with her omnipresent Ariel doll. Contently lost in visions of "The Little Mermaid" Kim began heaving. The noises produced by her building reverse parastolsis went unnoticed by my parents, but the sounds that soon followed would not be ignored. As a sea of yuck filled the seat between Kim and I, and the Fire Truck Red hair of her Ariel doll filled with the half digested remnants of that morning's breakfast, I began screaming. Soon the car's brakes were engaged and gravel began to fly as we pulled into the nearest spot safe enough to pull over.