Gonna Puke
My Dad was in the forces and based in Germany, once a year he would drive us across Germany, Holland and Belgium and then catch the 4AM ferry to Dover and then drive across England to his Mum's in Devon.

His car was an old boxy Datsun Sunny Estate and it was so cool to me as a twelve year old. In the back seat would be my sister and I crammed in next to my Brother in his huge baby seat. My brother was always a snotty child and his explosive sneezes, would cover both my sister an I in his thick green snot. I hated car journeys with him.

One summer leave, my Dad was driving fast down country lanes. we were in the back moaning that we felt sick. Dad just drove faster in the misguided belief that getting there faster would end our suffering. Then it came and both my sister and I started to throw up into plastic bags that Mum had quickly found. The smell in the car was vile, but Dad did not like the rear windows down, it made a lot of noise while he was driving. The car did not have air con and must have been in the high thirties in temperature.

The last thing I saw was a plastic bag filled with my sister's vomit bouncing down the road because she had, despite protests from Dad, wound down the window and thrown her bag out because it was leaking on her dress! My sister was always the strong one.

As soon as she got to seventeen she was learning to drive and has had her own car since she was eighteen. Me, I still hate cars because that plastic smell inside makes me want to puke!
( Rev. Jayneflakes Buy my book, I need the cash for drugs and hookers, Fri 23 Apr 2010, 8:51, Reply)