Growing up, I always hated mustard.
In grade school, I had a friend who would eat ham and mustard sandwiches for lunch. It smelled awful.
And then after lunch, she would have dried mustard at the corners of her mouth and I could still smell the mustard. For the rest of the afternoon. That tangy mustard-y smell coupled with the neon yellow dried to her skin.
I loved her for her personality, but was totally grossed out by the mustard.
This is the trauma that would haunt me to my college days.
In grade school, I had a friend who would eat ham and mustard sandwiches for lunch. It smelled awful.
And then after lunch, she would have dried mustard at the corners of her mouth and I could still smell the mustard. For the rest of the afternoon. That tangy mustard-y smell coupled with the neon yellow dried to her skin.
I loved her for her personality, but was totally grossed out by the mustard.
This is the trauma that would haunt me to my college days.
