A cunning plan

My problem is that I am a bad liar.

When I go home in the afternoon, my Smaller Half will conversationally enquire about what I had for lunch.  And if I had a moment of weakness and had hot chips for lunch I am unable to adequately account for my time and money.  I know perfectly well that not only are chips bad for me but I also feel queasy afterward and regret them.

"Err", I say, "My lunch.  Indeed, my lunch was delicious!  I had something good, I can't recall now the details but it was very satisfying."

"You had chips didn't you?" asks my Smaller Half.

"Yes", I say, "I am so ashamed."

The stupid thing is that even though I know I need an alibi, I am unable to come up with one because I don't want to actually lie.  It would be easy to just tell her that I had a chicken sandwich or some such innocuous thing.  But I think that if a man is going to fib about his lunch he isn't much of a man.

So this is my plan from now on: "I had some potato salad".

Brilliant, eh?  If pressed for details I can concede that it was a deep-fried potato salad, of the French variety.  But otherwise, the truth remains safe with me, you, and the internet.