As a child growing up, I could not WAIT to get my license. Sure, it would be cool to drive around town, smoking ciggies and chasing boys, but what REALLY excited me was the prospect of borrowing dijon mustard from a rich British dude. I’m talking to YOU Grey Poupon.
Truth be told, I did not even LIKE mustard in those days–I was a ketchup girl (I know, I hang my head in shame)–but hearing the word “poop” was always funny. Hehe, hehe.