I was seriously convinced that seasickness was, in fact, all in your head. Not mine, of course. Because no matter what the size of the waves, I never was really bothered. It was just a little of the ol’ up and down, really. Nothing to be concerned about.
As far as I was concerned, seasickness was just people talking. Then people listened and then, when they’d heard enough about people being sick, they went out on the ocean and remembered what they’d heard and they decided to get sick as well. So, basically, it was all a scam.
And I kept thinking that right up until Sarcasmo started puking in my lap as we went out deep-sea fishing.
Although the sky was clear, it was still windy and the waves were crashing into the hull of the ship. We’d started out early in the morning. And I mean really early in the morning. You know the time: When it’s so early that no one’s in a good mood and even the possibility of being in a good mood is too awful to think about. Yeah, that early.
Sarcasmo and Zippy the Monkey Boy were the only two of my little dudes who were old enough to go on the fishing trip with the rest of the older dudes in my family. Speed Racer stayed at home, which, as it turned out, was a good thing.
About 15 minutes into the trip out to the fishing reef, Sarcasmo started looking green. Seriously green. I’d thought he was too young to really have heard about being seasick, so I wasn’t sure what was going on. Still, I took him into the cabin to get a little air conditioning. It didn’t help. Zippy asked what was wrong and I assured him it wasn’t anything. Just keep having fun out on the deck. So he did.
Little Sarcasmo sat down on a seat next to me in the cabin and then put his head on my lap. Yeah, this was quite a time ago. He kept moaning that he didn’t feel good and I kept telling him he was going to be fine.
My brother-in-law, who’d already taken his seasickness-prevention pills, was being nice about it, but basically telling me I was an idiot for not giving said pills to the little dude. I laughed it off.
Again and again. Right up until the point where he, yes, puked in my lap. Fortunately he’d not had a huge breakfast, but still. . .
He’d puked in my lap. That’s the sort of evidence you can’t ignore. Especially coming from a little dude with no agenda.
So, the reason for this wonderful story? Get dramamine or any kind of seasickness-prevention pills and have them with you if you’re going out on the waves with a little dude or dudette. It’s no fun wearing puke all over your shorts for five hours in the hot sun.
Trust me.
– Richard
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