At the checkout, I had to wait in line behind a slow lady and a cart-full man. Another dude came up behind me. The checker called for backup, and of course the LAST person in line, that dude behind me, got served first. I switched lines, though. Heh, heh. Because that tactic has served me so well in the past. NOT.
I got waited on before the cart-full guy, who is probably at this moment typing on his blog how that WEIRDO LADY behind him got served before him. Whatever. Let him be petty like that. Anyhoo...I switched lines, but not before I responded to the last-minute snacks on that end cap screaming my name.
"MRS. HILLBILLY MOM! Hey, there! It's US! Right here! The chips. Yeah. Quit looking at those soft-batch chocolate chip cookies! Sure, you used to buy them for The Pony. But he's not here now, is he? So forget that. Look at US! We're salty. We're crunchy. We go great with a 44 oz Diet Coke! C'mon. You've been good. Treat yourself. To US! Uh huh. US! Right here! The Honey BBQ Twisty Fritos! You know you want to! C'mon! Here we are! Within arm's reach!"
I swear. Those Honey BBQ Fritos have a voice as annoying as the Tide Pen.
Yeah. I picked up a bag of those Fritos. How bad could it be? I know even those little bags have two servings. That's not so bad. I carried them downstairs with my lunch of a Chicken Caesar wrap. The Devil was all out of pinwheels yesterday.
I looked at the back of the back to check the serving information.
SWEET GUMMI MARY!
According to the label, that bag contained 4.5 servings! Seriously! Would you share that little bag of Fritos with 3.5 people? No siree, Bob! They'd accuse you of being chintzy. Of not giving them enough. Even though you gave them their serving of 23 pieces.
No way was I going to eat that whole little bag of Fritos! I opened it up and counted them out, into four sections, and sealed them up in Ziploc bags. Forget that .5 serving! At least I turned 1 into 4. So I would only be 1/4 of a glutton. Technically.
Don't worry about Mrs. HM destroying the environment. I'd already used those Ziploc bags once, to carry down my daily servings of BBQ chips that go with my pinwheels. I save them a few at at time. They're not really dirty. Just some BBQ flavoring powder in them. I normally use them to put gas station chicken bones in, until I take them up later in the night, and feed the non-splintery ones to the dogs the next day. Then I throw them away, of course. But those bags do double-duty, at least.
I haven't tried the Honey BBQ Fritos yet. I was mad at being tricked into bringing a possible dietary downfall into my Mansion. Maybe tomorrow. Depends on what I'm having for lunch.
They look yummy, but we don't get them out here, which is a good thing because they'd be on my no-no list for sure.
ReplyDeleteMy zip-lock bags to double and triple and more duty, I wipe them out and use them until they fall apart or until the zip no linger works. I bought one packet of 50 sandwich sized bags about 5 years ago and I'm still using most of them. There's even a few unused ones left in there. Thrifty, that's us.
HM--If you only occasionally eat stuff like that, you're fine. You've done so well reducing (while I am doing a great job of un-reducing), so cut yourself some slack. (Do you see how clever I was, using the word "slack" with talk about your reduction?)
ReplyDeleteRiver,
ReplyDeleteThey ARE yummy! I tried a couple with my after-supper snack, a stick of cheddar cheese.
My mom used to wash out her Ziplocs, but I have not yet succumbed to that level of thriftiness. I imagine it takes a long time for those zip locks to wear out, because some days, I can barely get them open without inserting a fingernail in the seam. Even the ones with "easy-open" flaps.
***
Sioux,
I do it more often than I should, but I'm a calorie counter, so it takes the place of something more nutritious. If I'd stop cutting myself slack, I might get off this plateau.
Yes, you ARE quite the clever one. Your cleverness is breathtaking. You are a virtual SvenJOLLY of cleverness! I don't see how you walk around with all that cleverness.