Furtive potato chip eating: Scenes from a household

Me: “You want to watch an episode of Castle together?”

T glances at the clock. The clock hands are pushing 11:30pm. He yawns. “No I’m beat. I can’t do it tonight. You go ahead and watch Elementary.”

Aside: Castle is the one TV show that we PVR and wait until we are both ready to watch together as a couple. It started as an affinity for Nathan Fillion due to his starring turn on the cancelled-too-soon Firefly and it’s follow-up movie Serenity. Now it’s tradition, even though we think the show’s best days are behind it.

He climbs the stairs and I cue up the episode of Elementary to the TV. The show has a cold opening that lasts several minutes, so when the opening credit sequence plays, I pause and listen. The sounds of teeth brushing and bedtime routines are quiet. He’s gone to bed, I think.

I get off the couch and head downstairs to the basement. I pick my careful way through the obstacles course of boxes, extra chairs and drying rack and make it to the sauna. Which is now a fancy cedar lined storage room. I open the door and grab one of the potato chip bags I have hidden here, purchased when the grocery store had a special for getting 3 at a time.

Ruffles Sour Cream and Onion. Come to momma.

I snuggle back into the chair and resume the show, using the sounds of the TV to hide the crinkle and squeak of opening the bag. I start happily, yet furtively, snacking away on the potato chips.

I hide the chips for his own good. His metabolism isn’t what it was when we were younger. He has a hard time controlling himself when it comes to chips.

Yet for all the rationalizing, I am the one having a hard time controlling myself. Chip after salty chip gives a satisfying crunch between my teeth and my tongue. Between this and the noise of Sherlock talking on TV I didn’t hear his steps back down the stairs.

“Where did you get the chips???”

I am like a deer caught in the headlights. I give a sheepish smile and explain the hidden cache of chips. I tilt the open end of the chip bag towards him as a peace offering.

T laments, “Agh, I already brushed my teeth.” He bends over to give me a kiss goodnight, licks the transferred salt off his lips, gives his head a disapproving shake and heads back upstairs.

I don’t have to share! My eyes sparkle with delight. I return gleefully to the chips and keep eating.


Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *