Sunday, November 18, 2007

Potato Chips Are The Work Of The Devil...

My mother loves potato chips. She loves potato chips more than just about any other food and rumor has it that I had a 3rd sister, but someone offered my mother a bag of potato chips in exchange for her youngest child and she took them up on their offer. That, my friends, is how much my mother loves potato chips.

I love potato chips too. I love them even more if there is dip to go with them. My favorite way to eat potato chips is scrunched on top of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. It is safe to say that my love to chips is hereditary.

I never eat potato chips. NEVER! I never eat potato chips because I cannot stop myself at just a few. I end up eating the entire bag and then getting canker sores in my mouth from all of the yummy salt. It is safer if I buy pretzels. I do not like pretzels so I don't eat them. I sometimes buy those really awful "all natural" potato chips-the ones that taste like cardboard just so that I can "trick" my mind into believing that I am eating potato chips, but my taste buds are not fooled.

My parents are coming out for Thanksgiving and when I was at the grocery store the other day I walked down the chip aisle. I was met with a very interesting quandary. Do I bend to my mother's addictive behavior and buy the potato chips so that she can eat them all and turn the bag inside out just to lick the remaining salt, or do I put my foot down and say NO to the war on hip fat that these chips has waged with me.

I thought of all of the things my mother has done for me, like make me wear my older sister's hand-me-downs all of my life, demand that I only eat baked chicken legs 5 nights out of a week for my entire youth, make me play the saxophone in band all through my Freshman year just so that I was labeled a "band geek" and my hopes of becoming Homecoming Queen forever squandered, and make me drive around in a powder blue van for all of my high school days in order to let everyone know that I was in no way cool.

I decided to pay her back for all that she has done for me and buy a family sized bag of chips. I cackled out loud as I thought of my mother eating every last crumb of the potato chip bag only to regret it when she tried to get her favorite pair of brown pants buttoned.

(Rubbing my hands sinisterly) Yes, the time has come mother for my revenge!

My evil plan would have worked if I had not been so tempted by the stupid chips just sitting in my cabinet wreaking havoc on my will power.

I opened the bag today. I ate a peanut butter, jelly and potato chip sandwich and consumed one pound of French Onion dip. CURSES! Foiled again!

I just love how Thanksgiving brings families together!

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