We all have our weaknesses and vices. Maybe yours is chocolate chip cookie dough? Krispy Kreme donuts? Peanut butter by the spoonful? An entire box of palate-shredding Apple Jacks cereal? My vice you ask? The one that renders me senseless, saps my inner resolve and forces me to do its bidding at the mere sound of the bag tearing open?

My friends, it is with abject humiliation I tell you that it is Funyons. Yes. Funyons. The sight of that green and yellow bag evokes 70’s nostalgia. Its cleverly designed Y-tail leading one’s gaze to the peek-boo window and tantalizing onion flavor and empty calories contained within it. Ah…funyons. We first encountered each other on Friday nights while watching the Dukes of Hazzard and Harper Valley P.T.A.

And so it was on this Sunday night, some 30 years after we first met…you still hold me in your thrall. The evidence of my indulgence shall lie in crumpled ruins until the dog tries to ferret out the last delicious crumb from the bag (said bag which is also, ironically, the exact size to encase a cockapoo’s head…but that is a post for another day).  And now I am left with nothing save the bitter hangover of wasted calories and breath laced with onion powder and regret.

The deed is done. Today, I shall sally forth and choose the low carb path. Yet again. Though sometimes victory lies not in always obtaining our goals but in continuing to tread hopefully…with fresher breath.

 Further Reading