Yeah, I Have a Problem

Once I admit it will you all leave me alone and just start dealing with your own condiment situations?

I know... I've been disgusted by the way some people eat before. Well, not really, but only because I am the strangest eater any of you have ever met.

An athlete recently, following a week in a shared condo, told a coworker that "Kelsey eats weird stuff" and I don't disagree! I'll be the first to admit that when your cooking plan centers around opening the fridge and taking out whatever you see to be put into a dish, you're generally not going to eat what most "normal" people eat.

But I do have a problem that goes beyond just normal strange eating (oxymoron, sure!)...

I have a mustard problem.

It used to be pretty basic. I like mustard on the things humans eat mustard on. Hot dogs, hamburgers, pretzels. 

Then I started using it as my only French fry dressing.

Then I started putting it into all cooked meals.

Then it all broke loose the first time I tried it on a salad instead of dressing.

And now my teams think I'm crazy. 

My coworker who is moving in this week told a group of friends at a birthday party recently "I can't tell if I like Kelsey or love her. I'd love her if she didn't have a dog or put mustard on EVERYTHING."

True, I do that.

Friends give me artsy little jars of dijon for Christmas gifts. Others gag at the thought of mustard on carrots.

But what are foods if they're not a condiment vehicle? And what would the condiment world be without mustard as the rock, nay the glue, that holds it all together?

Last weekend, the first day of 10 on the road for weddings in the Midwest, I was helping a friend finish some sweet potato fries. I loaded a fry up with some classic yellow mustard and BOOM: mustard all over my shirt AND my lap. Mustard and I may currently be on rocky ground, but I am on my way to a wedding BBQ ready to get back into the saddle, a week later and just three days from access to laundry again.

Bring it.