I said it.
The best popcorn is made on the stove, tossed with salt, and has real melted butter drizzled over the top. So it was that last night, just as I was about to wrench El Guille from the arms of his grandparents, that grandpa pulled out the heavy-bottomed pot, set it on the stove and announced, "Let's make popcorn!"
You could have told El Guille that Thomas The Tank Engine and Bob the Builder were at his house with an unlimited supply of pizza and soda forever but that still wouldn't have been enough to tear him away from his grandpa's side. As it was late, I persuaded El Guille to allow grandpa to fill a plastic baggie with fresh popcorn to tote to our house. El Guille asked us to fill a bag for his daddy as well.
Other Half, I should explain, doesn't like popcorn, no matter how you make it. He'll even make a pained face and hold his nose if I indulge at the movies. Oh, he's very discrete about it, casually draping his hand over his nose and avoiding eye contact until I devour the bag (small please, no 'butter.') Sometimes the hand will drift to his forehead because the popcorn might even offend his delicate senses so much that he gets an instant headache. I know, we're all surprised he hasn't died of consumption yet.
And that is why, after getting the kids into bed, I helped myself to Other Half's bag of popcorn.
About an hour later Other Half wandered into the living room and asked me, "Hey, where is the floss?"
(We've resorted to hiding many, many things in our home. After we found a whole box of the stuff wrapping our furniture and going in a continuous sinuous thread around the living room-kitchen circle, the floss is now in an undisclosed location.)
Why could he need floss?
"Wait," I said, "Did you eat the bag of popcorn?"
"Because if you ate a bag, and I ate a bag, that means we ate El Guille's bag."
A look of fear and absolute horror passed in between us.
Seriously, you might as well have told us that Other Half was headed to Turkish prison and I owed 100 large to a guy named Fat Tony. We nervously contemplated our fate.
"Maybe he won't notice," Other Half said, breathing in sharply.
"Uhm, that may have worked before," I said in a panic, "But he notices things now!"
"He's going to freak."
"I know. Maybe he really won't notice, we have to make sure we don't bring it up. What am I talking about, he's going to flip out!"
Don't ask me why two grown adults were completely terrified, but I think we wisely went into denial for the rest of the night.
This morning, at 7:30am on the nose, a wail arose and whirled towards my bed.
"MY POPCORN WHERE IS MY POPCORN?"
"Honey, uh, your popcorn is gone."
"BUT WHERE WHERE IS MY POPCORN?"
"Honey, your popcorn had an accident."
"AN ACCIDENT WHY IT HAVE AN ACCIDENT WHERE IS MY POPCORN?"
"I'm sorry, your popcorn had an accident and now it's gone."
"BUT MY POPCORN NO I WANT MY POPCORN WHERE WHY MY POPCORN HAVE AN ACCIDENT?"
"I'm so sorry. Your popcorn had an accident and now it's gone. But, but, but, we can go to grandpa's house and get more."
So, as soon as everyone was awake and fed, we made the trek to grandpa's house for a sandwich bag filled with popcorn.
As we pulled up, El Guille noticed that the snow cave that grandpa built him had collapsed.
"BUT WHY IT COYAPSE? I don't want it to coyapse. My snow fort!"
"That's the great thing about snow! We can always make another one." This seemed to mollify him until we could at least get inside the house to where the popcorn was stashed.
A little later as the snow fell (sorry, still not tired of snow) El Guille contemplated the view out the window and announced, "Hey, the snow's coming down and it's going to make everything coyapse!"
Hmm, that must be what happened to me, the snow is going to make me coyapse at any moment.
Don't worry, El Guille got his final revenge in the popcorn debacle of aught eight when he tried to fix himself a cup of hot cocoa by himself.
Props though, dude, on the inclusion of Pero in your cocoa, that's pretty sophisticated for a four year old. I don't know if I'd go with a tumbler of half dry Pero, half dry Nesquik, though, that might seem like a little overkill.
Monday, January 28, 2008
I said it.