Hey, Taco Dip. Can you come over here, please? I have something to say to you.
I have a bone to pick with you. You ruin every party where we are both in attendance, and frankly, I have had enough. You sit there, with your layers of guacamole and sour cream and refried beans and salsa, next to a dish of tortilla chips, and project an air of harmless deliciousness.
"I am just a dip," you seem to say. "Dips are innocent. We are just something to casually snack on before the meal. And look, I have tomatoes. Healthy."
Except you are not innocent, and you are certainly not the casual snack you advertise. When you are there, I ignore my children, my diet and my common sense, and stand guard over you with a fistful of Scoops, snarling at anyone else who dares come your way. I do not dip delicately; I must get a bit of every layer, and to do that, I have to dig to the bottom and come out with a chip that suddenly weighs a half a pound.
Just yesterday, I was seduced by Super Bowl Taco Dip, sprinkled with black olives and cheese. By the time I emerged, half the plate of dip was gone, and there was no dog that I could blame. It was all me. I consumed approximately 2,000 calories in 10 minutes, led on by that colorful, savory, evil parfait of taco fixings, neatly layered for my dipping convenience.
So here's what I have to say to you, Taco Dip. You stay away from me, you and your friends Artichoke Dip and Buffalo Chicken Dip and Crab Dip. If you are a dippy appetizer that I could potentially sit and eat with a spoon, no chip or cracker needed, then you stay at your high school graduation parties and do not come anywhere near any of my festivities.
I am too vulnerable, and I just end up hating myself in the morning. The last thing I need is one more Taco Dip hangover; the shame is more than I can bear. Not to mention the looks of disgust from my family members as I plow through more dip than any human being should eat, and then have to go lay rudely on the couch because I am too full to eat an actual meal.
That is all there is. Get out of my life and do not come back. Now please excuse me while I push aside the toothpicks and consume this whole crock pot of meatballs with my bare hands.