“When the chips are down…

refill the basket.”

My 15-year-old son and I went to buy new basketball shoes after his first practice yesterday. I had something that is a rare and treasured commodity for me: one-on-one time with an individual child. We ate lunch at Moe’s. I love their quirky artwork with silly sayings written around the borders:

“If you don’t have fun saying quesadilla, you’re probably pronouncing it wrong.” (Yes, No Cool Story, my son and I laughed about the quesadiLLa quote in Napoleon D.)

“If a quesadilla could talk, it would be terrifying.”

“You can tell a lot by the way a person dips their chips.”

You certainly can. Which brings me to one of my pet peeves: double dipping. In case you don’t know, double-dipping is the loathsome and socially abhorrent practice of dipping food in some kind of shared, community dip (like salsa or cheese dip), taking a bite, and then re-dipping the same piece of food (usually tortilla chip) into the sauce again. After you’ve eaten off of it. Some restaurants give each person an individual bowl. In that case, double-dip your heart out; it doesn’t affect anyone else. Otherwise, just don’t do it.

Years ago, I attended a moms’ night out with ladies from a playgroup one of my sons attended at that time. I was really excited because we were going to my favorite Mexican restaurant. When the chips and salsa arrived, most of the women immediately started double-dipping. I was horrified, disgusted, but mostly just plain irritated; I had wanted chips and salsa, too, but not anymore.

Two other moms and I taught a human anatomy class in our homeschool co-op this year. On the week when we covered the digestive system, I explained to the children exactly what double-dipping does (one of many anatomy-related rabbit trails we followed this semester). I told how if you repeatedly scoop baby food directly out of the jar into the baby’s mouth, and then reseal the unfinished jar and put it in the refrigerator, saliva will break-down the food, whether it’s in your mouth or not. When you reopen that jar, part of the baby food will be liquefied. It was that mental image that did it. Those sweet faces registered such shock and revulsion that I knew I had helped prevent a few more double-dippers in this world, and for that I am pleased; it was my civic duty.

If you are a habitual double-dipper: Stop the madness! Cease and desist! Just say no!

Never let it be said that I am afraid to tackle the big issues on this blog.