Kitchen Ambush.

You might know that I normally have nothing but good things to say about mayonnaise.  That is great stuff, and whoever thought of it first was a goddamn mad scientist.  That preface aside, let me say this: I was attacked by my mayonnaise.  You read that right, attacked suddenly and deliberately.  I believe I am now in a defacto state of war with mayo.

You know those big honking jars fit for some kind of luncheon or family reunion cookout?  Well, that's how I roll.  I was fixing a tuna sammich and consolidating white gold from the big jar into the smaller squeeze bottle.  (That is also how I roll.)  Anyway, I smacked the jar against the counter after scooping out a good amount and a dollop flew out of the jar, straight up a good foot and a half, and smacked me directly in the face.  Now, I don't know if you've ever had mayo in your eye (I'm gonna go ahead and assume you haven't) but there are several thoughts that pass through one's mind.  I like to call these "The Seven Stages of Having Mayo in Your Eye." 

1. Wonder - "What the hell just happened?  Do I have mayo in my eye?"
2. Pain - A sharp, stinging, pain that you might associate with a mustard or relish, rather than a delicious treat like this.
3. Panic - "What do I do?  How do you get mayo out of your eye?  Is there a procedure?  Should I call someone?"
4. Thickness assessment - At this point you'll try to guestimate exactly how much mayo went into your eye.  Its more than you think.  Partially because you wouldn't think you'd get mayo in your eye, but mostly because mayo always attacks in groups.  And blinking and moving your eye around will evenly distribute the dollop on your cornea.  This will alleviate most of the acute pain, but it'll create a makeshift cataract and you won't be able so see anything but light and color.
5. Wild splashing - You'll begin to understand that blinking and crying won't get this done.  So you whip the tap open full bore and proceed to splash water all over, mostly not actually in your eye.
   
6. Worry - Self remedy accomplished, you feel as much mayo as possible has been washed out.  But you still can't really see.  You may go find a mirror and examine the damage with your good eye.  (If you're lucky enough to be the victim of a monocular attack)  It will be god-awful red and your vision will be blurry, although not quite as cataract blurry as before.
   
7. Acceptance -  "Screw it, I'm gonna go eat that sammich I paid so dearly for."
   

Got that?  And just to help you remember I thunk up this handy mnemonic:
Why Pick Pansies or Tulips When Wildflowers Abound?