It is no secret at my house that I need to attend CA (Condiments Anonymous).  Back in the summer of  1986 I took a road trip with my cousin and her family to New York.  I quickly became the “joke of the day” with the amount of mustard that I would go through.  So much so that the for my birthday the following February I received a package from my uncle.  I opened it up to find a bottle of mustard.  It can’t be any mustard, it has to be French’s.  No ifs-ands-or-buts.

After getting pregnant with my first child, I was cured of my condiment problem for a few years.  I was so sick with her that everything made me sick, included my beloved French’s.  It wasn’t until about 5 years later when I started getting my appetite back for mustard.  I am proud to say that I am back to my old self again.  Drinking mustard by the bottle.

This is not a good habit to have especially while eating hot dogs or hamburgers.  It never fails that I will end up with mustard on my face or clothes about 78% of the time.  Mustard don’t come out of white very well.

I have this problem with pepper also.  My clue to the right amount of pepper on something is when I start sneezing.  That tells me that I have enough on my food.  I don’t know what is wrong with me, but when I die someone better bury me with a gallon of mustard and a couple of cans of pepper.

With this said, yesterday I went with my beautiful daughters into town to run some errands.  These are always eventful.  We always end up laughing our heads off over one thing  or another.  I had a hamburger for lunch and managed to go through every store with mustard on my face without one of my daughters telling me.  They waited until I was home before saying anything.  Wow!  Where is their loyalty?  I suppose it was funnier to them that I made a fool of myself all over town rather than save me from the embarrassment.

While on this ride, we were sitting quietly at the bank drive-up window when my daughter all of a sudden says, “I think I am going to call DCFS on you”.  Of course I looked at her questioning her motive behind that comment.  Then she informed me that my vehicle was malnourished.  I still stared at her wondering where this was going when it dawned on to me what she meant.  My car is always out of gas.  It has an annoying beeping sound when it hits 1/4 tank.  Many a time we have been driving when it has gone off and I yell at it to shut-up.  She had no sooner said this when as if on que, the car started beeping.  Well I thought I would play it up, so I smacked the steering wheel and yelled, “Shut Up” in the best English accent I could come up with.  My other daughter that was in the back seat that had said nothing up to this point loudly whispered in an embarrassed tone, “Don’t do that in public”.  Of course we all started laughing our heads off, causing the bank teller to wonder what we were all on.  They are used to me there.  I was the ding-dong customer who inadvertently took the “money tube” on a ride through town before I realized that I had not put it back into the compartment.  When I returned to the bank, someone had already replaced it with another one so I hurried and laid it on the cement and took off before I could be seen.  Pretty sure camera’s caught that stupid stunt.

My children have no chance at being normal.  The are genetic mutations of myself and my husband.  My husband has had his fair share of embarrassing stunts.  If our children come out of this family with any normalcy at all then I could only say that they must have been unknowingly adopted.

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