Horror Cheetos...

Caution: If you have a weak stomach and get queasy very easily, please do not proceed. The following story is of a car ride...

  Imagine this: Green. Everything is green. The grass, the trees, and the car are green. It's a small five person Buick. It's Sunday, Church is over, and it's time to go home. Home is two hours away over narrow, winding roads full of potholes. No matter, it's still time to go home. Six people pile their luggage into the trunk of said car, then place the rest in the seats with them as they pile in.
  The mother's in the driver seat. The oldest child is in the passenger seat with hand bags around her, and four other children are squeezed into the back seat, bags at their feet as well. The engine starts. The mother pulls onto the highway nervously. It's been a long day, maybe the children will go to sleep? Silence is ordered as they start down that frightfully steep hill that people stall on going up, and can lose their breaks on going down. Silence has been commanded, therefore silence is given as each child begins to think that this will be the last journey they will ever make. Death must certainly be in store.
  The bottom of the hill is reached.
  The car is still running.
  The mother relaxes slightly...but not much!
  They begin to wind slowly through the hills, doors locked. Soon some of those in the back seat start to feel sick. There's no air. The littlest ones are too small to see out the windows and they're known for having weak stomachs anyway.
  "Mommy, I'm going to throw up, can't we stop?" Comes a small frantic voice.
  "No!" Comes the tense answer from the frightened mother. "I'm not stopping on this highway. It's not safe."
  Seconds pass.
  "But mommy, I feel sick! I'm going to throw up!" Comes the cry. Before anyone can do anything the sound of retching is heard from the same individual. The two kids next to her freak out as vomit covers her fleece jacket spread conveniently over her lap, and the second oldest makes a silent, solemn promise to never eat cheetos again. She'd rather starve in the future than consume the same vile substance that's all over that coat.
  The smell of apple and artificial cheese fill the car. There's no air. Those that already felt sick start to feel worse and start to cry. It's raining outside. Open windows are out of the question. Stopping is out of the question. The second oldest is ordered to gather up the jacket and it's prize and place it somewhere "safe" on the non-existent floor. Mom's stressed. There's no doubt about that. The girl reaches over and does as she's told. Apple pop? Never again! She bends down and rearranges things on the floor, her siblings whining at the bags on their feet and laps. Finally she finds a place for the "package". She leans her head against the window.
  The smell.
  The winding road.
  No air.
  The continual talk of sickness.
  And all the bending over...
  Her stomach starts to churn. Cheetos are all she can think of. She hasn't felt this sick in her entire life. Air, that's all anyone wants. Cheetos are on everyones mind...
  "Mommy, I'm going to throw up too!" The youngest one cries out.
  "Here!" The mom hands back a small bag. It's a chip bag. It's a cheeto bag.
  "Hold it for her!" The second child is ordered. "Everyone look out the window or go to sleep!" The mom is still freaking out. The youngest looses it. The second child starts to cry as she holds the cheeto bag for her little sister. Vomit is on her fingers. She's afraid the bag might overflow if her sister doesn't stop soon. She can't look at it or she'll start to hurl too. There's a major crisis in the back seat. The rest of the drive becomes a blur.
  Tears.
  Vomit.
  No air.
  The cheeto bag is held hatefully, yet carefully in the lap of the second oldest. Why? The mother will not allow her to litter. Cruelness! Sad day! Sick day! A day to remember. A ride to never be forgotten.


In all fairness, my mother had a reason to be scared, nervous, and tense. We were on a dangerous, secluded highway in Mexico and didn't have a phone (if I remember correctly). The rain was also not her fault. There was nothing anyone could do about it, and the only way to see out was to have the defrost on. So there was no air. This was also before we started carrying a "barf-bucket" with us, and so there was nothing to be done. I'm simply thankful that I've never had to repeat that exact same journey, and that I can now laugh at it. But cheetos still disgust me...and while I enjoy apple juice, I can no longer enjoy apple pop...especially Manzana Lift. 

(The volcano close to my house)


o.k. so my mom claims that we did litter with the cheeto bag full of barf. So, I will believe her and say that we did. :)