The Fourth Box

Eric and I just returned from our week of bliss in the Caribbean...sort of. The flight down to Miami was fine (thanks to Adavan) and getting through security and onto the boat was all well and good...until the first night we were at dinner when the boat started to rock.

Now, our whole lives growing up, Anne was always the one who got motion-sick...Mom's little clone. Since she has adopted her jet-setting lifestyle, however, she has grown out of all forms of motion sickness except when riding in the car. Unfortunately, as the saying goes, what goes up must come down and Anne's other motion sickness genes came right out of her and landed in me.

I was SICK every night on the boat. Thankfully, I never actually lost any stomach contents, but I would lose my ability to eat (something gravely unfortunate if you saw the food in the dining room) and would have a pounding headache which inevitably ended in me excusing myself right after dinner to go pass out for the night. I also got to wear those oh-so-fashionable motion sick wristbands to get through. They were a God send.

When we tendered at the first port (for those of you who may not know, this means that the water by the shore is too shallow for the boat, so it anchors off the coast and much smaller boats come out and ferry you in), there was a whole bin of motion sick tablets. I obeyed the sign and took only 1 pack, seeing that Eric's mom had also taken some for me. When I got the dinner that night, almost every member of Eric's family produced a packet of pills they had taken for me. I was touched, but also labeled as THAT girl.

I was also motion sick on the flight home, which has never happened before. So yes, for those of you who are familiar with the Punnett Square of genetics, I am the fourth box, where almost inevitably the odd and somewhat undesirable genes of the parents are deposited. Mom's motion sickness landed square on me.