Orange Sherbet:

Just about the entire neighborhood had been playing at my house that afternoon, and we must have driven Mother to the edge of madness, because without much fanfare, my great grandmother had me, Sister, and Cousin-L loaded into her baby blue Pinto and on our way up to Alpine. The winding road was enough to make anyone queasy, so we all sat still and kept our eyes on the curving yellow and white lines. Despite my rather severe stomach pains, I had to work especially hard at giving myself motion sickness, but since we had been promised ice cream, we were careful to not take any chances at make ourselves ill. Near the edge of the township proper, there was a bakery and attached ice cream parlor. Sister was interested in the bubble gum variety, just as I had been at first, but I warned her that it wasn’t nearly as good as it sounded. She didn’t trust my judgment, and was consequently disappointed. Cousin-L, as I recall went for a more standard chocolate chip, and I chose a brightly colored orange sherbet. I tried to enjoy my dessert while Cousin-L, despite half her hands being full of ice cream cone, attempted to explain to me the more delicate aspects of cartwheel theory. GG consoled Sister, who was making sounds of dissatisfaction. After our treats were finished, we loaded back into the car and headed home. As we neared the more twisty part of the road, I felt my stomach start to churn. Even though I seemed immune to motion sickness, I was immediately afraid that I had fallen victim to it’s nauseating sway. By the time we were turning off the highway and headed up the street toward home, my mouth was salivating, and I knew that I was in trouble. GG had let Sister out of the back seat, but I was waiting for Cousin-L to release me, and she was still rambling on about cartwheels. My body however, was not waiting any longer. I heaved, and emptied my stomach onto the floor of GG’s car. I felt dizzy and for a moment I felt I might black out entirely. The following moments were a blur, but when I was able, I apologized to my great grandmother and promised her I would clean up the mess. She assured me though, that it had already been taken care of. Inside my home, I laid on the floor, my breathing belabored. When I awoke, I felt better save for the shame that lingered yet.