People often say that I look just like my dad, although my height definitely comes from my mother. Other people say that I get my silly personality from my mom. Bob would tell you that my lack of patience and yelling at the top of my lungs to get a point across, most certainly comes from my father (and all of our Italian ancestors). However, there is one thing that is indisputable above all others, my love for all things salty and crunchy comes directly from my mom. And while we certainly wouldn't pass up a french fry, crispy chicken wing or bowl of cashews, what we are really talking about here are potato chips. Somewhere in the DNA that mom passed on to me was a beautiful, golden brown, thin and crispy, perfectly salted gene that started it all.
I can still remember being a little boy and the frosted, avocado colored chip bowl with the metal dip holder that only came out when my parents were entertaining. The appearance of that bowl was like Pavlov's bell for me, it meant that dip made with Lipton onion soup mix and a big bag of potato chips were not far behind! It made me giddy. I could barely contain myself in my zip up onesie pajamas with feet. I suppose looking back on my childhood, it was my potato chip obsession that ignited my salty crunchy love affair and landed me straight into elastic waist Garanimals.
As an adult my potato chip penchant is alive and well. Just recently our family was celebrating a birthday and Bob could not understand why I was completely out of sorts at the idea of not having potato chips in the house. "You can't have a birthday cake for someone and not have potato chips" I shouted. While this made absolutely no sense to Bob, he just accepted my logic and went to the grocery store. Bob is amazing. People should be more like Bob.