Popcorn Memories. Popcorn Crisis! Crisis Averted!

I vividly remember my mom making popcorn for us in a heavy cast iron skillet. The smell of fresh popped corn was magnificent and mouth watering. We always ate it with plenty of butter and salt. We did not know (did we?) about hardening of the arteries, heart issues, etc. It was something we looked forward too because the reality is, we did not have popcorn very often. It was quite the ordeal to make. When we did, it was usually because there was something special coming on the TV. The annual showing of The Wizard of Oz, or the latest John Wayne movie fresh off the big screen and now on the "Movie of the Week", the World Series or the Olympics. You have wrap to your mind around the fact that this was before microwaves, before cable or satellite TV, before VCRs or DBRs, and before video stores. There was literally only ABC, CBS and NBC. That was it thank you very much.

Today, when I feel like popcorn I can just reach into the cupboard and take out a cellophane wrapped prepackaged bag of microwave popcorn. Toss it into the microwave and 2-3 minutes later I can happily be munching on hot popcorn. I confess I still put salt and butter on mine but in my own defense I put a lot less than I would really like. Sometimes when I am feeling really decadent I will put some grated cheddar cheese on it, toss it back in the microwave for a minute and then enjoy the oozy goodness.

Last night was just such a night. I was in the mood for popcorn. I reached in the cupboard and what to my horror do I see? There is only one bag of popcorn left in the box. My heart is beating wildly and I feel close to hyperventilating. My knees are weak and threatening to buckle beneath me. How can this be happening? Who is in charge of making sure the popcorn supply is filled? Heads will roll I tell you! I really want some popcorn but if I eat this then there will be none left when CJ gets home at 2330 and I would not want to be within 50 kilometers of the cabin if that happened. Even then, the blast of her nuclear meltdown would probably still take me out. I can see her now, blue eyes ablaze with fury, teeth gnashing and fingers curled like talons ready to strike. Slowly she looks around for the culprit, the guilty party, the sacrificial lamb. Well, it won't be me! No, I won't do this. But damn it, I really want some popcorn.

Then a voice behind me casually says, "you know dad there are two boxes of popcorn in the back of the cupboard". He must have seen me standing there, staring blankly into the box of popcorn with one bag left in it............ Oh, well, that's a horse of a different color altogether. Crisis averted. Let the popcorn pop. The only question that remains, butter or cheese? Life goes happily on.