Best Chips for Deadbeat Dads on Christmas

It's December 24th, 11:47 PM. The gas station fluorescent lights flicker with judgment as you realize that, once again, you've confused 'being a parent' with 'occasionally remembering you have offspring.' But fear not—nothing says 'I'm trying' quite like potato chips purchased with pocket lint and expired coupons.

The Classic Overcompensation: Pringles Variety Pack

Nothing screams 'I don't know your favorite anything' like a variety pack. It's the snack equivalent of throwing darts blindfolded and hoping something sticks. The tube format also provides the illusion of effort—it's technically wrapped, if you squint. Bonus: you can claim the different flavors represent the diverse experiences you would have shared if you'd shown up to literally anything this year.

The Guilt Deflector: Baked Lay's

Choose the baked option to demonstrate you care about their health, despite not knowing if they have allergies, play sports, or still live at the same address. It's a gesture that says, 'I may have missed your birthday, graduation, and that thing where you needed bail money, but at least I'm thinking about your cholesterol.'

The Expensive Apology: Kettle Brand Truffle Oil & Sea Salt

When you need chips that cost more than the child support you've been dodging. These artisanal chips suggest sophistication you don't possess and a relationship depth that doesn't exist. The fancy packaging almost makes everyone forget this is the first time you've texted since the Fourth of July fireworks reminded you of that time you promised to take them to Disneyland.

The Nostalgia Play: Original Doritos

Orange fingers are hereditary, right? These are for when you want to reference that one good memory from 2011 when you actually showed up and bought snacks for the Little League team. The artificial cheese dust serves as a metaphor for the artificial nature of this relationship. Deep.

The 'Cool Dad' Attempt: Takis Fuego

Because nothing says 'I'm hip with the kids' like buying the spicy chips you saw on TikTok six months after they were trendy. Your child is either too young for these or too old to be impressed, but you won't know because you're not sure if they're 8 or 13. The extreme flavor might mask the bitter taste of disappointment.

The Participation Trophy: Store Brand Plain Chips

For when you want credit for trying but not really. These sad, flavorless discs perfectly represent the effort you've put into this relationship. They're chips in the technical sense, just like you're a dad in the technical sense. At least they're consistent—consistently disappointing, but consistent nonetheless.

The Hail Mary: Family Size Everything

Buy the family size of whatever's left to create the illusion of abundance compensating for your absence. The 'family' label is ironic, considering, but the sheer volume might distract from the fact that you had to ask the kid's name when their mom answered the door.

Pro Tips for the Terminally Absent

Remove the gas station price sticker. Nothing ruins the illusion of caring faster than a $3.99 label from the Chevron where you also bought scratchers and beef jerky for yourself. Write their name on the bag in Sharpie—if you remember it correctly, you get bonus points. Claim you've been 'saving these for a special occasion' to explain why you're giving them chips that expired in October.

The Reality Check

Here's the thing about chips as Christmas presents from absent fathers: they're perfect. They require no assembly, no batteries, no commitment. They can be consumed quickly, leaving no lasting reminder of this awkward exchange. They're the snack equivalent of your parenting style—empty calories that briefly fill a void before leaving everyone unsatisfied and slightly nauseated.

But hey, at least you showed up this time. That's something, right? Right?

On the Chipter Scale of Parenting: 2.3/10. The .3 is for the gas station effort.