chips

I just had a moment, but I’m okay now. Still, I’d like to vent. My husband eats everything. I feel like I’m always hungry because he not only wipes out our fridge, he likes to do clean sweeps and is constantly pitching soggy salad I really don’t mind eating. I mean, what else am I gonna eat, right? I always expect the one thing I look forward to at the end of the day to not be there when I get home, but I have yet to become inured by my everlasting disappointment.

Since we conceived this crying one-year old, I’ve been very controlled about what I eat. I’m not a big meat eater, so I force-fed myself protein the entire forty-one weeks. I’m also in the service, so I had to prepare for a PT test in which salad and more protein was my best friend for a year. I get chips here and there, but not a one piece touches my lips due my husband’s apparent need for them. Whatever. Who needs chips when trying to attain pre-baby weight anyway? Two nights ago, I discovered (again) that my chips were gone. I made a joke about it, which prompted him to get a new bag. Fast forward to today. On this day, I had broccoli and a protein bar. On my way home, I was getting a hunger headache so I thought “Hmph, I kinda want some dip.” I wanted creamy, cheesy, jalapeño dip a neighbor of mine made one Super Bowl, which I skulked her Pinterest for, salivating over the sinfully smooth recipe snapshots.

I get home with our son, who seems to also have a black hole of a tummy and just cries to be fed nonstop. I decide I’m gonna let him cry because I’m sick of eating convenient things like protein bars or gross things like soggy salad in order to tend to everyone else. I very carefully prepare my dip so it could bake in the oven while I try to satiate our insatiable son. My ears were ringing, but I’m thinking, At least I’ll have dip! The boy was fed, my dip was done, and I look in the cupboard to… NO CHIPS. I just about lost it. Husband is still at work, so I’ve already cleaned up the Diet Cokes I smashed open in our backyard (that shut the LO up). I rushed to the BX and grabbed fifty dollars’ worth of junk food I’ve stored in my trunk, LO pooped up his back, so he got a wonderfully soothing bath he cried all the way through, and I finally sat down and had my dip. Plus now I have a secret stash to pick from.
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Sarah Jean Estime is an Aircraft Mechanic in the Air Force. When she's not working her day job, she's composing works related to literary fiction. She has been published by the “African American Review,” “O-Dark-Thirty,” “Burner Magazine,” and “Pif Magazine.” She currently writes for Blogcritics and Litro Magazine.

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