Chip scorecard (all scores out of 10):
Flavor accuracy: 10
Flavor quality: -999,999,999
Bag quality: 0 (I would have maybe given a point or two here if the bag couldn’t be opened at all)
Overall: “The Year 2020 in a bag of chips” – quantify that however you want.
Full disclosure: I think if there is any evidence that natural evil exists, sweet potatoes are the perfect proof. Now, let me review a bag of chips coincidentally made with sweet potatoes without any bias!
I’m not sure what I did to piss both my partner and oldest child off, but after they returned from a routine trip to the grocery store, I was helping putting away my weekly snack allowance (three bags of chips, two boxes of crackers, and a wildcard snack or two) when this repugnant excuse for a chip suddenly appeared like a rabbit being pulled out of a hat.
“Honey, it looks like there was a mix-up in the grocery store,” I said.
“Excuse me?” Kash said.
I, while keeping a safe distance from the someone-coughing-in-a-public-place-levels-of-toxic bag, pointed at the sweet potato chips. “Those, someone must have accidentally put them in your cart or something.”
“Oh. No, I wanted to try those,” she said.
After a rapid fire question & answer of personal details only Kash would know the answers to confirmed she hadn’t been abducted and replaced by an alien or other sentient robotic life that Elon Musk keeps tweeting about, I sat down on the couch to take a minute to think. In order to avoid any sort of sudden and angered response, I always find it’s best to calm myself down with deep breathing.
“Okay, but seriously, why did you bring these into our house?” I said, before realizing I was now only speaking to a disinterested toddler.
Kashley was already in another room having lost interest in this conversation faster than the GME meme stock trades collapsed. The only words I caught her saying down our hallway were “an overly-dramatic reaction” to what I might consider the eighth deadliest sin.
“I need to run an errand,” I said.
She came back down and caught me with the bag of chips tucked underneath my jacket.
“What are you doing?”
“What’s under your jacket?” She said.
My three-year old son looked up from the the same episode of Dora The Explorer that we both have every line memorized from to completely rat me out. “Dad shoved a bag of chips in his coat!” he said, like I hadn’t just tried to buy his loyalty to with a Dum-Dum.
On top of this, our chocolate Labrador with the memory of a goldfish and the energy of the Hoover Dam, was thinking this is me getting ready to take him on a walk, running circles around my legs until I’m stuck in a vortex of dog fur.
The “put them back in the pantry” look I get is unmistakable. Everyone including the dog is disappointed as I walked the chips back to the counter and took the sucker back from my son, whispering, “Et tu, Brute?”
But don’t worry, sweet (potato) redemption was had, as even Kash ended up thinking these were pretty garbo. So who really won here?
I don’t even think if we put these up on Buy Nothing that anyone would come take them, and that’s saying a lot because we have gotten rid of some absolute JUNK on there.