Letting The Chips Fall Where They May

Last night I gave into a craving for potato chips. I was easily tempted by the open bag leftover from the snacks I had bought for my son and his friends last weekend. They weren’t tortilla chips, or even PopChips, just these:

No redeeming value except crispy, salty, slighty greasy goodness.

I expected to feel gross and remorseful after I ate them, but I didn’t. I washed my hands, drank a few sips of water, and felt–normal. I got on with the rest of my evening without feeling bloated or weighed down, and without beating myself up.

Sometimes a snack is just a snack, and sometime chips are just chips.