Barfing in the Backseat Read Online Free

while burping. No passinggas unless it’s a matter of life and death.”
    “You know, Stan,” Papa Pete said, trying to get my dad to change the subject, “I’d like to tell the youngsters a little story. Kids, did I ever tell you that I once took a road trip to Maine with my parents, and my father did something I’ll never forget? He let each of us choose one place where we could stop along the way.”
    “What did you choose, Papa Pete?” I asked him.
    “A pickle factory outside of Boston,” Papa Pete said. “It smelled like garlic and dill and vinegar all rolled into one.”
    “Eww,” said Emily. “How gross.”
    “It wasn’t gross at all, my darling girl,” Papa Pete said. “It’s the way I hope heaven smells.”
    Papa Pete and I both love pickles, especially the really sour ones with lots of garlic. We have a pickle snack when we’re discussing important subjects.
    “I think we should give Dad’s idea a whirl, Stanley,” my mom said. “Each of us could pick one place to stop along the way.”
    “Maybe there’s a bookstore that specializes in dictionaries,” my dad said, taking Papa Pete’sgood idea and making it horrible.
    “Or an organic vegetable farm where we could taste all the young broccoli and Brussels sprouts,” my mom chimed in.
    “Or an iguana farm where Katherine could visit her relatives,” Emily added.
    I looked over to Papa Pete for help. What kind of family did I have, anyway? Did anyone in the Zipzer clan know the meaning of fun? Or were they just going to sit there and keep listing the worst places you could possibly go on a road trip?

THE SEVEN WORST PLACES
TO VISIT ON A ROAD TRIP
    1.   A factory where they use visitors to demonstrate how to use dentist drills.
    2.   A tour of the trash dump where all the world’s disposable diapers and Robert’s used tissues go.
    3.   A visit to a school where opera singers learn to break glass while trying to hit their high notes. (I’d have to get earplugs for that.)
    4.   A factory where they make athlete’s foot powder. (Oh wait, maybe that’s a good thing because my feet are pretty sweaty in these five pairs of socks.)
    5.   A guided tour through the publishing plant where they print my math textbook. (I’m getting a rash just thinking about it.)
    6.   A stop for an afternoon treat at an ice cream store where the only flavor is fried ketchup.
    7.   A personal visit to the home of Ms. Adolf’s twin sister. I don’t know if she has one, but I can’t even imagine it because the thought of two Ms. Adolfs will do damage to my brain.
    8.   Oh no, Ms. Adolf’s evil twin is still in my brain. How do I get her out? What if she stays there the rest of my life? I’ve got to stop this list right now and go wash my brain out with soap. Hey, how do I get the soap up there? Maybe through my nose…

P APA P ETE’S IDEA caught on right away, and we all became really excited about picking our own place to stop along the way.
    My dad got out a whole bunch of maps he had been collecting for the trip and spread them out on the table. We went through them, calling out names of cities and places of special interest, with my dad running back and forth to the computer to look up what we found. Fortunately for all of us, he didn’t find any dictionary stores along the route, so he picked the Library of Congress in Washington, D.C. as his choice.
    Emily picked the Science Museum of Virginia in Richmond, which we were going to pass right through. Wouldn’t you know that little Miss Einstein would pick that for sure.
    Frankie, sports fan that he is, picked the University of North Carolina in Chapel Hill ashis place, so he could visit the basketball court where Michael Jordan played college basket-ball.
    My choice, of course, was the roller coaster park.
    Leave it to my mom to locate an organic honey farm in Virginia where they give tours of their beehives to crazy health nuts like her.
    “Did you know that bee pollen is