June 22 | draw four
June 18 | Sushi
June 12 | reminders
June 08 | sleepwalking
She sleepwalked on the boat such that Rodney would follow her to make sure she didn't walk overboard. Damon reminded me that there was discussion about locking the cabin door at night so she couldn't get on deck.
Throughout a few months one winter back when we still shared a room, she would get out of her bed around 3am and come to mine. She would reach down and shake me pretty hard while urging me to wake up and get out of bed: we were late for school.
Most of the time I was able to persuade her to get back in her bed. But at least once she crawled into my bed still shaking my shoulder.
One of those evenings, instead of waking me, she stood in the middle of our bedroom and danced to some apparently pretty good music playing in her dream. She made no sound, and after the song was over she climbed silently back into her bed.
June 02 | Harf
threw up all over the dash board, door, and floor. Mom pulled over and cleaned up after her beloved daughter who was now more pale looking than ever. After a scolding for not admitting that she was sick, we resumed our journey. This time I sat in the front passenger's seat and held Melissa. She continued to look sick, but again was sure that Mom didn't need to pull over. Mom asked if Melissa was going to puke. Melissa said no. Mom asked again. Melissa said no... Then she began to hurl again, but this time I was ready for her. In front of my convulsing sister I held one of those small car garbage bags that you get at gas stations. I was proud that I had avoided another mess when I noticed that the bag had a leak, enough to let a small, but steady stream of puke spill out onto the floor as well as my legs. Mom pulls over again, repeats the whole clean up routine, and issues another warning to Melissa. It's decided that Melissa will lie down in the back leaving me in the front seat alone and evidently a bit pale myself. Mom takes to the road again and, after awhile, asks me if I'm going to be sick. With the same glazed-eye, pale expression, and droning voice that was used by my little sister I look at my mother and say, "No, Mom, You don't need to pull over..."