Miah and I have ventured to the Salt Lake Valley for a week long vacation with my youngest brother Jason. Our adventure, like many adventures, began with a plane ride, followed by a long layover, then a delay, delay, gate change, delay, and finally a barf bag worthy plane ride. Miah says it was a little shaky, but I (and the man sitting next to me worried I might lose might lunch on him) knew better.
I don’t know what you’re suppose to do when you start to feel sick on a shaky plane ride, I tried counting to stay calm, tried thinking of something else, but this only got so far as, “Don’t think about throwing up, Don’t think about throwing up, Think about something other than throwing up…” I couldn’t grab for the bag, because removing my eyes from the vanishing point in the distance would trigger certain doom, I debated asking the nice man next to me to prepare the bag, but once again, this took a lot of concentration, that was required for not thinking about throwing up… so, get bag or ask for bag = certain throw up, sit and concentrate on not throwing up = potentially messy situation; you can see my quandary. After 20 minutes of internal struggle, we landed. I did not in fact throw up on the man next to me, my mental concentration seemed to have paid off.
Key lesson from this experience, if you fly Southwest Airlines, be sure to check in early so you don’t get the last boarding numbers and end up in the back of the plane near very nice strangers that you don’t want to throw up on. Husbands are much better for that.