Where to Secretly Eat the Super Bowl Snacks You Made for Your Husband’s Party

A dedicated wife might spend hours—sometimes days—developing a Super Bowl snack game plan that will blow her husband’s mind. But on the day of the big game, as unathletic men in beer gut-hugging NFL uniforms are piling into her living room, a woman often asks herself, “What have I eaten today?”


Here’s a list of places to secretly satiate your hunger with those delicious homemade Super Bowl snacks that you made for your husband’s party but are now reclaiming for yourself.


For Bean Dip… The Upstairs Bathroom

The guys have heard you say it a thousand times: “Use the downstairs bathroom!” This rule will serve you well when it comes to your famous dip. You chilled the cream cheese, refried the pintos, and turned avocados into guacamole at peak ripeness—why should your husband’s dumbass friends get to benefit from that exacting process? While they’re taking turns bragging about whose shitty home-brewed beer tastes better, sneak away with some of that delicious seven-layer bean dip you lovingly whipped up, and wolf it down in the privacy of your luxurious, spit-shined upstairs bathtub. Pull the shower curtain closed for additional isolation. And hey, why not light some of those bathtub candles? You deserve it after five hours of heavy snack-layering.



For Po’ Boys… In the Pantry

More like “No boys in the pantry!” The pantry is a place that only you and your mother-in-law use when uncomfortably preparing elaborate family meals together. In between rounds of passing hors d’oeuvres to your husband’s raucous guests, take a time out to hog down on a fried shrimp po’ boy next to your five-year supply of homemade tomato sauce (which your husband thinks is “almost as good as Prego”.) Fuck you, Dale.


For Queso… The Walk-In Closet

No self-respecting, refined, married woman would dare eat in her bed. But you haven’t hoarded food in your walk-in closet since high school, so why not take a trip down memory lane while the dudes are downstairs verbally assaulting the flat screen? Tell your hubby that you need to change into your lucky jersey, and instead, take a quiet moment in the walk-in going H.A.M. on that spicy, crockpot queso you’ve been warming since before he woke up that morning. You are the maker of queso!!!!


For Hot Wings…The Laundry Room

Whoops! You “accidentally” spilled some Frank’s Red Hot on your serving apron! Looks like you’ll need to jam a few freshly broiled hot wings into your sports bra and take a detour to the laundry room. Always keep some freshly washed towels in this man-free zone so that after sucking the chicken bones dry like a starving orphan, you can wipe the pepper-induced perspiration from your brow.



For an Entire Self-Serve Ice Cream Bar… The Garage

It’s the fourth quarter and time for dessert, but hosting etiquette reminds you that you’ll eat dessert last, if at all. Never fear, snack goddess. That morning, coordinate an elaborate garage-organization scheme requiring him to move his car into the driveway. This way, while they’re all freaking out during the last seconds of the game, you can drag the entire folding table covered with bowls of ice cream toppings into the meat freezer, totally unnoticed. When the game ends, instead of standing around taking turns revving the engine of his new 2004 Ford Mustang, the boys will continue to pound beers while you have the garage all to yourself to enjoy the final morsels of your labor.


If these locations aren’t private enough for your Super Bowl Sunday nibbling, consider getting a hotel room, ordering Papa John’s, and becoming completely financially independent! Go Broncos!