tomato chips

To set the scene for the quick story I have, I have to first tell you that this kid in my class, S, is a total walking mess. Every paper mysteriously rips in his hands; pencils disappear, and backpacks routinely are left on the bus, when he manages not to miss the bus. When homework is turned in, it's a rumpled, crumpled mess, barely legible. His writing notebook is no longer bound at all, but just a collection of loose papers in his desk. S. cannot make sustained eye contact. He fidgets like crazy. He has already been picked up by the police, and he just turned 9. He is traditionally not popular with teachers or other adults. He's hilarious, and he knows it. He routinely makes my day.

OK, here's the quick story. I felt bad for this kid today when, during science, he was trying to tell the class about the history of potato chips (of course, our lesson was on soil erosion, but...). Apparently, the king wanted his potatoes done differently for a change, and he demanded the cook to do something new. The cook was tired of being pushed around by the king, and so decided to let the potatoes get really crispy. The king loved it, and voila! The potato chip was born.

Except S. kept saying "tomato chip," and the class kept giggling. He didn't catch on at all, and kept saying it: Tomato chip, tomato chip... Finally I had to save the poor kid. "Do you mean 'potato chip?'" I asked. He had to think about it. "Yeah, whatever, tomato chip. Potato chip. Uh, What you just said." The class just laughed, and, well, who can blame them? It does sound funny, and he does usually make them laugh on purpose. This time he just looked confused somehow.

So, I just looked it up, and according to this 1997 article, tomato chips were considered to be just over our snack horizon. Did they ever show up on the shelf? They sound good to me. I hope they become popular, for this kid's sake. He has enough going against him as it is.