There are some childhood memories that last a lifetime. One of my more traumatic ones took place during lunch at elementary school.
My mother, who could win awards for parenting effort, sent me a hot dog for lunch. I had told her I was bored with sandwiches. The bun was cut and ketchup, mustard and relish lined it in perfect proportions. All I needed to do was remove the wiener from my Thermos® and put it in the bun.
As I opened my Thermos®, the smell of warm wiener air rushed at me. I reached in with a pincer-like grip trying to grab the wiener. + MORE