Momma don't let your babies grow up to eat mayonaise sandwiches

A sandwich-making get-together sparked a vivid re-living of a tragic experience I had as a youngster.




*FLASHBACK to the Year 1991*



It was 11:30 AM on an expectedly perfect summer day in Victoria. My three older brothers and I were playing soccer on our neighbours’ front yard with a couple friends. They had a FULL size soccer net in their front yard, which pretty much took up everywhere where there was grass, so everyone except the keeper played on the street. (This made for some crazy insane bounces off the curb) Either way, this game of soccer appeared to be more fun to me then anything else ever possibly could.

Suddenly, at the peak of my momentary enjoyment, my Mother calls us in for lunch!

Oh the nerve.

How dare that woman ruin my fun with something as meaningless and arbitrary as food.

Not all was lost though, for I had a trick up my sleeve (as many 5 year olds do). I would fool this destroyer of joy. The scheme was set; all I had to do was implement it.

So I ran inside with my brothers to make sandwiches. Once inside this prison, I hurriedly snatched 2 pieces of bread and put mayo on them. Now instead of going with the regular cheese, meat, and lettuce routine, I closed the sandwich and headed outside. I was speed walking to the door, confident in my mayo sandwich debauchery, when the warden yelled, "You can't just eat a mayonnaise sandwich!!!”

"Yes I can!” Then I opened the door to pure happiness, and closed the door on the time wasting sandwich makers.

"Those FOOLS" I thought. I am saving SO much time by having a sandwich with only mayo on it. Therefore I will have more fun than ALL of you!

I ran down the steps, across our yard, and thought, "I wonder if this sandwich is any good?" Slowing to a jog as I crossed the neighbours’ driveway, I took a bite of my mayonnaise sandwich. Before I even had time to give my official judgment on the sandwich I tripped! I lost focus on the importance of the soccer game and placed it on this pitiful sandwich, so much so that I forgot how to walk.

I started to fall forward and so I did what any hungry boy would do... protect his food. In the moment, it seemed like the right thing to do, and now that I am older and wiser, I would say that it still was the right thing to do, only that I needed to have better sandwich grasping skills. You be the judge.

I held out the sandwich to protect it from the fall. My forehead struck the gravel-laden cement. One of these pieces of gravel decided to lodge itself in my forehead. In my pain, the mayo sandwich was released and became un-edible. I exclaimed with tearful eyes, "MY MAYONNAISE SANDWICH". Soon after, the gravel was removed, blood came out, stitches were put in, the sandwich was tossed, and my brothers laughed. 

This traumatic day is all but history now, however the scar on my forehead remains, constantly reminding me of how dangerous and deadly mayonnaise sandwiches really are. Please, do not take them lightly.