Potato Chips Are My Nemesis

Fact. If there are potato chips in my house I will eat them. I don’t care if they’re bad for me. I don’t care if they belong to you, your elderly grandmother, or that sad, starving orphan. I. Will. Eat. Them.

So I rarely buy them. Because another fact is that I won’t seek them out. I won’t stick a dollar in a vending machine for their delicious salty love. I won’t pry them out of the hands of a preschooler at the park. I won’t steal them from your pantry if I visit you. Well … no. No, I’m almost certain I wouldn’t do that.

They’re my kryptonite. They render me powerless over my fingers which must – MUST – shovel them into my mouth.

Figure out what your kryptonite is and develop some strategies to deal with them. Don’t buy them? Just have one? Find 100-calorie packs of them? Have them one day per month? Pay yourself not to eat them? Figure out how many miles you’d have to walk to burn them off and then, if you eat them, lace up those sneakers!