I’m Such a Cruel Host

So, when the Red-Headed Kid comes over, you know a shit-ton of junk food is going to get eaten, and at least one Diet Dr. Pepper will have five sips taken out of it and I’ll have to be all “Did you drink that all, because I didn’t buy that to waste it!” because when the Red-Headed Kid comes over, I turn into your Grandpa.

Anyway, the rule is that everyone is welcome to help themselves to whatever they like, but if chips are going to be eaten, they are required to eat the chips that leave color on their fingers first.

And so every time chips get eaten in my house, I get made fun of. “B., I’m eating the Cool Ranch Doritos! Is that okay or are my fingers not a weird enough color?”

I have even been accused of being prejudiced against crappy chips.

And, okay, maybe I am.

But I’m sitting over here counting how many Reese’s peanut butter cups the Butcher can eat. So far, he’s up to twelve.

Edited to add: There’s a Doritos controversy! The last bag of Cool Ranch Doritos was “not good,” but this bag is “surprisingly delicious.”

No, no, I don’t want to try.

Edited to add again: The Red-headed Kid says, “Why doesn’t the sign say ‘Beat them ‘Cocks’? Then it could be like you beat an actual rooster cock or… you know…”

“They could beat the Game Cocks?”

“Um, no, dude.”