This is the face of the boy who walked into the kitchen and, with his nose, discovered that popcorn was not far behind him. "POPCORN!" he yelped at me. "Mmm, popcorn." He disappeared into the living room where a bowl of unwanted, slightly sun tanned, popcorn lay in wait. These were the bits and pieces of popcorn that we hadn't wanted to eat this afternoon, while we attempted to watch a movie (our Internet timed out a lot) as Roman was over at gran and papa's house.
I came through to the living room to catch him eating all the rubbishy bits of popcorn. "MMMM! POPCORN!" he declared, shoving fistfuls of the stuff into his open mouth while I watched from the sidelines, totally mystified at his popcorn obsession. I haven't really been one to munch down on it in the past but the funniest thing happened when I got pregnant: I became obsessed with it. If we went to the cinema or the scent of cooking popcorn filled my nose I needed a piece of that stuff, I was drawn to it and would even eat the rubbishy burnt bits left over in the pot. It was disgusting. And today, that memory came back to me. This popcorn obsessed toddler was a popcorn obsessed fetus in utero.
I have a feeling that popcorn will be in all our futures ;).
