I am the third of twelve children; the reader can imagine that family road trips are always a little interesting. On one excursion the carsick sister situated directly behind me started heaving into an available paper bag. Another sister noticed a small trickle escaping from the paper bag. "MOOOOM, IT"S LEAKING!" she yelled as she lifted the entire driping mass--presently pink becuase of hte red Jello Jigglers we had been eating--directly above me. Due to my position and the constriant of the seatbelt, I was unable to reach or stop her. Primitive bursts of unintelligible sound spouted from my lips, but it seemed my attemps of communication were not reaching her. She remained frozen, staring at me with a look of fascination and shock.
I watched in horror as the outside of the dripping paper bag became more saturated. Then it happen. The pathetic and pulpy barrier that the bag had bravely striven to maintain had reached its limits and the cargo was released. The hysterical noises I had been making became one loud wail as vivid pink, artificially flavored chunks rained down upon me.
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