Popcorn lovin' and poppin'

Yesterday, I decided it was time to finally consume some popcorn that we have stored in the pantry. They've been silently sitting there for half a year at least, and I just read this Internet article that said it's good to have popcorn for snacks. As a kitchen apprentice who couldn't cook pancakes without breaking them apart, I asked my mother some guidelines on how to properly handle the popcorn.

Mom simply said, "Just cook them in low heat, like the way you do with pancakes."

I'd never seen her prepare the popcorn--they just magically appeared on my plate--so I never really had any clue on what I was doing. And so there I was, heating the pan in low heat and readying myself to throw in some corn-popping experience.

The first few seconds were calm and full of apprehension: the seconds that followed were full of popcorn flying in every direction possible. How can I not know that they pop like fireworks? There were a few that popped low and managed to remain on the pan, and then there were some that managed to fly to the sink, to the floor, to the table, and to the refrigerator. It's like they decided it's time to conquer our kitchen.

As the chaos ensued, I thought to myself, 'Mom, you could have told me to cover the pan.'

I learned from then on and covered the pan for the next batches. As for the first few that rebelled against my will, well, it's gross but I still ate most of them. I picked them up and put them straight where they belong--to my mouth.

I love popcorn and each of them deserves to be treated equally, even if they've been to unlikely places, like the carpet for example.