The Potato Chips

I'm thinking about eating all the potato chips. There will be consequences. I don't think I care. And to say there will be consequences is like saying the melting polar icecaps is a consequence of global warming. The eating of the last of the potato chips will be on that level, global. It's still worth it, even if I doom you all.

You see, these are the good potato chips. They are name brand. They are packed with so much artery clogging goodness that I ask you, could you stay away? They are not the normal potato chips that I buy from the store. As a smart shopper on a budget, I don't buy the name brand chips because my children secretly feed all the chips to the dogs and if they dogs are going to eat chips, then they get the Shasta brand. Secondly, the kids can't truly appreciate name brand chips. Their taste buds cannot truly grasp the awesomeness of good chips. Their philosophy is that a cheesy poof is still a cheesy poof by any other name. They have no idea. Finally, I'm just plain offended that a bag of potato chips costs 4 bucks. Are you fucking kidding me? For fried potatoes? Sweet, delicious, slightly salty fried potatoes?

But Hossmom insisted that for our bratwurst dinner this week that we get the good potato chips. So I did and I warned her: these might not make it to the end of the week. Friday is what I call my bullshit dinner day. I don't usually feel like cooking on Fridays so we have something easy and quick. This week it was Brats and potato chips. Now it's Thursday and the bag is still here, but just barely.

Now if I eat them, as I intend to do, I going to catch massive shit for it. She'll tell me that those are "her" potato chips. But, according to some, I'm a socialist liberal pig so in my view, they are everyone's potato chips. They belong to the people! The eaters of potato chips can only eat them by the will of the people! I am the people and I will that I eat them!

Then she'll say that she bought them with her money, that she worked hard and paid for them. Well, let's really look at that statement. Hossmom went to work, worked very hard (no doubts there) and then got paid for the work she completed. Then that money went into an account. From there, I took the money out of the account, went to the grocery store and bought the chips. By that reasoning, I am the one that actually bought and paid for the chips in all physical sense. I did the hard work of going to the store and making the hard decision: just plain or should I get sour cream? How about secret option C: plain with french onion dip!

I should be a god damn politician.

But Hossmom will then pull out the big guns. She will say that I promised. Ouch. It's hard to get out of a promise, especially to your wife. The problem is though that all husbands promise things to our wives but rarely do we realize what we are promising. It's because we don't listen. Sure, there is fine print to every promise but when a set are boobs are in your face you never read it. You are to distracted. Now does that seem fair to you at all? I would say that I was taken advantage of. I'm just a poor consumer that didn't realize what an APR was, all I saw was a set of ta-tas so I signed on the dotted line. In fact, that sounds a little criminal to me.

And the chips are just sitting there, calling to me. They are saying "Hossman, wouldn't we go just fantastic with that hot dog you are cooking for lunch?" Yes Mr. Chips. Yes you would.

So the real question remains, do I accept the consequences for eating all the of the good potato chips. What would those consequences be? Me sleeping on the couch. That could happen. Our whole marriage is now revolving around a bag of potato chips, the sweet morsels that they are.

I could blame it on the kids. For those that read my blog, would it come as a real surprise to anyone if I blamed my daughter. Does this not seem like something she would do? I could say that she got a chair out, climbed on the counter, scaled the refrigerator and ate all the chips. And by the time I figured it out, all the chips were gone. We'll just chalk it up to bad parenting. Hossmom would be disappointed, surely blame me, but not as much if she knew I ate the chips all by myself while fending the greedy little kids off with my feet. Then she would be really pissed.

And how could I blame my daughter? Easy. It's the main reason that I became a parent. Besides, yesterday she tied her brother up to the stairs and I'm pretty sure was looking around for some matches. I covered for her. She sure as shit owes me. Maybe I should call in that favor now. It's either this now or wait until she's 16 and making her come get me at a bar because I'm to hammered to drive. I'm guessing she would rather do this.

But to do this, wouldn't I then be admitting that I am terrified of my wife's wrath? Of course I am. I am because I am not stupid. I am a reasonably intelligent man and I fear the wrath of my wife. I see no shame in that at all. I'm just saying I would rather not get the cold shoulder for a full 24 hours over a bag of chips.

So that's the dilemma. Quite a pickle isn't it. Perhaps a pickle surrounded by chips. And a sandwich to go with it. And a nice coke or ice gold glass of milk. Wish me luck, this may be the last blog that I ever post.