Tuesday, October 26, 2010


I have a love/hate relationship with popcorn.  I love how it tastes.  I love that it is a fairly healthy snack.  I love the crunch of the not-quite-popped kernels.

I hate the popcorn all over the floor.  I'm not sure what is wrong with the hands of my family, but when they eat popcorn, I think they have holes in their hands.  The popcorn goes everywhere!  It's worst when I buy microwave popcorn because they can make it on their own.  For the last two years, I have only purchased the kernels in the bag.  It is much less expensive and only a few of us are capable of popping it.

The other day, we were going to have a family movie night so I bought some microwave popcorn.  I have been vacuuming ever since.

This morning, I woke up to my four year old whispering in my ear, "Mom, I burned the popcorn."

What??  She is not supposed to be COOKING!

I hurried upstairs into a cloud of black, stinking smoke that made my eyes water and my throat burn.  I quickly flung the blackened bag out the back door, opened all the windows and doors and cranked every fan in the house.  Today I am going to buy more candles.  My house reeks.  And it's cold.

If you were hoping to come visit me today, you may want to push it off a few days.  You'll find yourself trying to politely excuse yourself in a hasty early departure.

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  1. Oh rats! That burned popcorn smell never seems to go away.

  2. Hmmmmm, payback for not keeping an eye on your mother when she would sneak into the kitchen..