bologna on the floor

I am no particular fan of bologna.  I eat it as rarely as possible, actually.  It is super salty and fatty, which is generally a bonus, but for some reason I think it's a little gross, maybe just because it is cold.  I do eat fried bologna sandwiches.  Mmm mmm good.  But my feelings about the lunchmeat have nothing to do with this saying that has evolved in my family.  My younger sister and brother had a teacher, Mrs. Foth, who used to say this.  All.  The.  Time.  So much so that even though she never taught my cohort, it became a saying.  Suitable use: your niece comes to visit on Thanksgiving and runs right past you to hug and kiss someone else.  The only rationale I have come up with is that when bologna is dropped on the floor, it becomes a magnet for every piece of lint, dust, dirt, and goop there ever has been.  There is no way to rinse it thoroughly enough to eat, without washing away all the salt and fat that are the reason for eating it in the first place.  So that, bologna on the floor is expendible.