A "Storytime" submission from an unnamed reader:
To appreciate this story you must first understand that I really like mustard. I like hot dogs or hamburgers with mustard, and deli sandwiches with dark stone-ground mustard, horseradish mustard, or Dijon mustard, the spicier the better.
Several years ago I was at a Church pool picnic with my wife and baby son. I held the baby on my left arm while I made a ham sandwich with lots of dark mustard. Then I conversed with some friends as I ate the sandwich. Half way through, I noticed that some of the mustard had dripped out of the sandwich onto my arm, and was dangerously close to getting onto the baby’s clothes. I didn’t have a napkin handy, or a free hand to use it, so I simply licked the mustard off my arm.
It was not mustard.
I had the presence of mind to hold on to the baby, but the sandwich was not so fortunate. It hit the dirt, and I quickly passed the baby to an unsuspecting bystander. I grabbed the closest glass of lemonade I could find, gulped some into my mouth, and spewed it into the grass. Then I grabbed my towel and did the shoe-shine buff on my tongue.
I made another sandwich and put mayonnaise on it.
Now that's a funny story! Classic! Just classic!