Why I’m cautious and leery before that first bite
First grade in parochial school.
Lunchtime.
Our teacher, the nun, allowed us to get our lunch bags or boxes from the alcove where we kept them.
I thought I had the right brown paper bag but was mistaken.
When I opened it up, unwrapped the wax paper covered sandwich, I realized my mistake.
It was the wrong lunch, an egg salad sandwich.
My mother had packed a tuna salad sandwich for me.
I had someone else’s sandwich.
I told the nun.
Instead of setting the situation right, she told me to eat that lunch instead.
Meanwhile, I found out who had my sandwich.
Told our teacher that I found it, and now we could exchange the lunches.
She wouldn’t let us do it.
Told us to go ahead and eat the sandwiches we had in front of us.
I reluctantly ate the egg salad sandwich, although it tasted strangely sour.
The egg salad in that sandwich had gone bad — the mayonnaise had turned sour.
But I had to eat it anyway.
The kid who had my lunch seemed to enjoy my sandwich.
It was many, many years later before I dared to eat another egg salad sandwich.
The thought of it made me nauseous.
Fortunately, today I can eat and enjoy egg salad.
But I’m always cautious and leery before I take that first bite.
