Mayonnaise

I hate mayonnaise.  I know it is a strong word but the sight of it makes me cringe.  My relationship with the popular condiment got ugly when I was in elementary school.  It is not the taste of it that bothers me so much, instead it is a memory associated with the spread that haunts me.  When I was younger I used to be in a ski racing group so I would go up to Powderhorn, our local ski resort, and hit the slopes every weekend.  One of these weekends I was sitting with a group of fellow skiers and one of the kids was playing with a packet of mayonnaise, squeezing it between his fingertips.  All of a sudden the packet burst and mayonnaise flew across the table and covered my face.  It got in my eyes, up my nose, and in my mouth.  It looked and felt like someone blew there nose all over me.  Gross!  To this day just looking at the spread makes me think of snot.

I think it is so interesting the way our minds work.  The way we can hold on to a memory and it can effect us our entire life.  I know that having to avoid a sandwich spread in the grand scheme of things is not that traumatic.   But there are so many experiences we go through when we are younger that are.  Each experience creates the unique individual we are destined to become, I guess I just wish sometimes working through our issues was as easy as avoiding a sandwich.