Yes, the chip. That flavorful bastard that you see every kid accessorizing with on the school campus. That Frito-Lay recipe for obesity. Let’s put aside the fact that they are absolutely terrible for you. The MSG, artificial flavors, artificial colors and copious amount of sodium. Hello! High cholesterol. Who cares, they are crunchy and addicting. Or so I thought.
We’ve never bought them for our children. Oh no. This was the grandparents
fault job. It is also their job to spoil them rotten and give them back so that they are complete jerkoffs for 6-8 hours upon return from said grandma/pa weekend extravaganzas. Fair enough. One day when the grandparents returned our children to us after a wild weekend, two large bags of Takis seemed to have mysteriously stowed themselves away during the journey…yay. It was fine I guess. We were taking a road trip the following day to Laughlin Nevada and road trips equal snacks. Why not bring them along?
It was a sweltering 125 degrees while we sun bathed on the Colorado River bank. The water was a refreshing 70 degrees. I was chilling, enjoying my vacay. It was 10 am and I hadn’t had breakfast so why not bust out that giant bag of “Fuego” Takis. Four hours of family bliss. one chip, two chips, whole bag. Watching the kids swim and play with sand toys. “This is the life” I thought to myself. Boy, did I speak way too soon.
While packing up our things and loading them into the car, I knew something wasn’t quite right, something was brewing. Upon arrival to the hotel, I felt a searing heat in my chest. Must be heartburn from all those Takis. I showered the river water off my body and prepared the family for an early dinner out. While exiting the hotel lobby to the car, I realized I was quite dizzy, and then oh God…nauseous. I’m a mom, I can power through. A quarter of a mile into the drive, the tunnel vision began and the passive aggressive nausea reared her ugly head and turned into “oh my God pull over I’m gonna puke right now!” We pulled over and I RAN to the clean, well-kept truck stop bathroom facilities. The toilet and I had a moment. I felt relieved and comforted that the bacteria ridden bowl was there for my vomiting pleasures and the toilet reciprocated by strategically placing a small trash can within arms reach so that I was able to puke and crap at the same time. That toilet could spot Montezuma’s revenge a mile away, and I thank her for that.
It was apparent that we needed to get back to the confines of the hotel immediately. This first round of vomit was mild and gave me hope for the future, but clearly the stomach flu enjoys playing cruel jokes because the moment I stepped into the hotel room, I was completely engulfed in vomit and fecal matter tainted with Takis. I should be more specific; projectile vomit…and Dumb and Dumber “esque” bowel movements simultaneously. My esophagus was being burned alive and in the interest of not being selfish, decided to let my nose partake in the festivities. Regurgitated red-hot fire was spewing out of my nostrils like a dragon except dragons are really cool and this was not; figuratively or literally. Geezus! Why did I eat that whole bag of Takis??
The entire night was a puke and poopapalooza. Every 40 minutes without fail being reminded of that damn bag of chips I had eaten. The searing, burning, fuego!! By 5 am my mouth, nose and other evacuation point were downright raw. The bag of Takis was gone, having been exited out of my body like molten hot lava. I was exhausted, drained of all energy and fluids. I could barely walk. A few more hours of rest…and dry heaves and I was able function somewhat. By function, I mean stand upright, stagger and speak more than two words in a sentence.
I realized that I still felt like absolute hell and had a 6 hour drive home. I accepted it. I held my head high and made my way to the car out of the air conditioning and into the balmy Laughlin heat. Slowly and precisely putting one foot in front of the other. Telling myself “I can do this.” “Just make it to the car.” Closer and closer I crept to my minivan sanctuary. I looked up and saw my safe haven within arms reach. And then, Just like the showdown at the Ok Corral (but cue the theme song from The Good, The Bad and The Ugly)…
in the back of the van, peeking out of the window staring me down, was the second bag of Takis. I was cool, calm and collected just like Clint. I sized it up, knelt down and began a 60 second dry heaving session on the back tire. No. More. Takis.