Every family in the world has a mustard story. A story about an incident where mustard went awry.
The family thinks their mustard story is pretty damn funny.
It is not.
*OK, so apparently, a post furtively dashed off on an iPhone underneath a restaurant table is not enough to explain what I’m talking about. So here’s the deal.
Once upon a time this family I knew sat down to dinner. There was mustard on the table. Somebody said something about being careful while passing it. And everyone gave these knowing little laughs. Because once upon a different time, someone in the family had shaken the mustard, to get the last bit out. And it sprayed all over the mom. I can allow that it would be funny if you were there. Maybe. But it was the way they told it. Like, “Oh my god, this was the funniest thing EVER! And you cannot possibly fail to find it as pee-your-pants-funny as we always will!!”
I thought that was the end of it. One weird little quirk of one weird little family.
Because over the years, I’ve met at least 5 OTHER FAMILIES who have an extremely similar story, that they tell with the same weird expectation that you’ll be enthralled with it, too.
So yeah, that’s what I was thinking while I wasn’t concentrating on dinner.