Stop the Press! Stop the Press!

No that's not me skiing!

I wish.

My last post was a joke. If you read my comments my delightful little sister Nicole brought up some memories I thought I should share.

Truth be told, my younger sister was right. The last time I went skiing it was quite tramatic.

I was probably 9 years old. I couldn't have been much older than that. My dad had taken Nicole and myself to the ski shop and we rented all the appropriate gear for a full days worth of skiing.

I was up the whole night before projectile vomiting. I specifically remember sitting on the stairs (in what had to be one of the houses in Midvale) debating on whether or not to wake my parents. I knew if they saw how sick I was that I'd be forced to stay home and Natalie would be privileged enough to take my place on the slopes.

Not happening.

I was afterall, from Arizona. It wasn't every day I got to wake up and go skiing with my dad. Not to mention he had signed us up for the childrens ski program. It was very official and I had planned on becoming a proffesional snow bunny.

So after a whole night of puking my guts out I got up early, along with dad and Nicole and suited up. I didn't mention the intense stomach cramps and migraine headache taking over my body, why bother my parents with that?

We got in the car and headed up the canyon. Just the 3 of us. If I remember correctly there was lots of traffic.

Trust me, I remember correctly.

The weaving around the canyon and endless traffic had my stomach in a twist. The ride seemed never ending. My dad and Nicole were uber excited and I didn't have the heart to tell them that I needed to throw up. The moments between this and what happened next are a little foggy, so I'm just going to come out with it.

We were at a complete stop and I said, "Dad, I need to throw up."

He handed me a plastic grocery bag. Quick thinking for a Dad if you ask me. I thought only Moms' were that sharp.

Then I proceeded to throw up in the bag and dump in my ski bibs simultaneously. I tried to black out after that. Reality was far too humiliating. For some reason all I could smell was bananas. Maybe I threw up bananas maybe I threw up ON bananas. I don't know.

All I know is I couldn't eat bananas until like 6 months ago.

Some of the events that day are a little foggy. There is one thing I am sure of.

I can say, without a doubt I was the only snow bunny walking around the resort with a load of crap in her pants.