When my brother The Artist was married twenty years ago, I drove with my brother The Wookie and his wife to be from LA to my parents. To give my sister a break, we took my niece, now a journalist, then a toddler on the five hour drive. Her father had told me a few days earlier that when she was hungry, she said she had "monsters in her tummy" (even at that age, she had a way with words).
We stopped for fries and burgers at the start of the trip. About 20 minutes from the end of the drive, my niece woke up and said she had monsters in her tummy. I fed her some of the cold french fries. Big mistake. Turns out these monsters were not interested in food - she was car sick. Oh dear. We arrived at my dad's, and he watched as we drove up and all leapt out of the car dragging child, car seat and all out and calling for the hose. He said it looked like a fire drill.
Niece met me at the airport late, late Friday night to catch a ride with me down the coast. We'd both missed dinner so I said I'd risk it again and feed the monsters in her tummy. We stopped for fries and burgers and laughed about hungry monsters - and those that you feed at your own risk.