When I was a child, about in the third grade or so, I had a real problem. That was the year I broke my arm. But that was also the year we got ketchup. I had experienced ketchup before. I’d had it at school. But, in our house, my dad had this fanatical hatred of ketchup. He would throw a fit if anyone bought it at the store. If you actually had some and put it on something, he’d go in a tirade about drinking blood. So, my mom just didn’t bother to buy it.
I buy the store brands of ketchup, as it's often half the price of Heinz.