A few times sine my wife and I found out she was pregnant she has complained about getting sick from my driving. She’s complained about my driving before, so this is nothing new. But she has never gotten sick from it. Well let pregnancy be the cause of that. I felt bad the first time it happened, but I wasn’t driving any differently than before. Apparently my hard stops she complained about when we were engaged are catching up with her. She doesn’t get sick from her own driving or her mother’s. Just mine and her father’s.
Tonight we decided to meet up with her parents and no sooner we were a few turns away from home, and already the motion sickness was setting in.
“Here we go, Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride, or Mr. Tim’s Wild Ride,” she said. “Just take it slow, will ya?” So I did. I even tried to steer clear of the potholes, and I let this old guy driving a beat up Oldsmobile with a candidate bumper sticker blocking the cyclops brake light in the back window get by me even though he went straight through a left-turn-only lane.
We managed to get to our destination without my wife getting too sick. Of course that didn’t matter after she ate because she got sick after she ate anyway. At least she didn’t barf up the dinner I made her last night.
Peaks and Lavallees 