Lynn's Comments: Every year, my folks took us to the "PNE" --The Pacific National Exhibition. This event was huge by the standards of the day. It included, along with the midway, exhibits of farm animals, a flower show, cooking demonstrations, and buskers of all kinds. You could spend a day there and pay nothing for food. Free samples of baking and meats and candy were enough to sustain our family of four!

The day dad took us on the biggest Ferris wheel we'd ever seen, my brother, Alan, and I were stuffed with snacks, corn on the cob, and our favourite: cotton candy (which we called "candy floss"). I was the one with the cast iron stomach, but this day was different. By the time we had ascended to the top of the ride, I was feeling woozy. At the first descent, I was a bilious green. As the chair ascended, my pyloric valve gave way, and I jettisoned a load of carnival chow over the handrail onto the heads of the couple below. It was good to have missed my dad, but the thought of dealing with the victims in the chair ahead, unnerved him greatly. The ride didn't stop for accidents like this, so we endured the cycle--expecting to be taken aside by the people I'd barfed on. They would be getting off first.

As the ride came to a halt, Dad, the least confrontational man on the planet, prepared for the worst. Fortunately, the couple fled to the nearest bathroom without looking back. Relieved, Dad sighed and said, "You're lucky, Lindy. Those folks were understanding. My guess is--they definitely have kids."