|Rosy & Mary|
I have issues with smells – issues that involve an involuntary gag reflex and total loss of control. Every time I have to pick up my dog’s poop, I gag to the point of tears and break out in a sweat. Now that you have an idea of my lack of composure, imagine me getting puked on by a sweet little six year old with motion sickness.
I had been sitting next to Rosy on the bus (one of the twins) on the way to Tanga, and when we returned from the bathroom break at the rest stop, her sister Mary was in my seat too. As they are tiny girls, there was no problem fitting the three of us in the two seats, until Mary started spitting (or so I though) out the window. As I’m watching her “spit”, I kept thinking, huh – that’s a lot of liquid for a spit. I’d ask if she was okay, she’d give me a silly little smile and nod yes. I thought, weird - ohhh well, back to my sandwich. Then…it happened again, with more “spit” this time. I asked Ramesha if he could please ask her if she was okay. He assured she was okay, but yes, she was throwing up out the window. When I look over at her – she just smiled at me again, and her twin laughed (AWESOME, I got stuck with a pucker). Ramesha just handed me a plastic bag and smiled. Everyone just smiles here, and no one thinks maybe this is a problem.
A few minutes go by, and she starts using the bag, but not well. Something takes over, and I help her hold the bag. I’m sure my face is horrified, and I probably stopped breathing, but all I know is I held the bag, got puck all over my hands, and didn’t puck in response. I felt awesome and adult that I held it together.
Two days after getting puked on (and proudly not puking on someone back!), I got peed on, by Mary’s twin Rosy. We had been at the pool swimming, and she urgently ran up to me and said TOILET. So, we grabbed our sandals and went to the bathroom. I assumed she just wanted an escort, until she started to try pulling the bottom of her one-piece swimming suit down. I started to help her remember it comes down from the shoulders, and she starts squatting – on my foot. Again, I’m sure I looked horrified, but I didn’t freak out, and she just smiled up at me.
Later that day, after our shower at the pool, a bird pooped on my head. Everyone said I was lucky, but I think that’s just the polite thing to say to someone who has had lots of unwanted bodily fluid on them.
Moral of the story – now that I’m rounding my 29th year, I think I’m growing up.