yuckity yuck!

*sniff!* *sniff!*

*gag!* *shudder!*

I could smell that horrible stench - freshly popped popcorn. Mom microwaved some popcorn last night. I got moody because I couldn't stand the smell of fresh popcorn. I kid you not, I totally hate popcorn. If it was caramel popcorn, maybe I'd eat some, but, no, I can't eat plain or buttered popcorn at all.

Anyway, mom asked me if I want some, and I said, "Eww, no!" She singsonged, "You and your sister are just alike!" I corrected mom that it had nothing to do with personal preferences, it had to do with a popcorn experience I had when I was little. When my siblings and I were little brats, we all were so excited to see a Muppet movie (maybe it was E.T.). Dad bought that HUGE bucket of buttered popcorn. We all shared and ate the popcorn. I noticed my younger brother ate more popcorn than anyone else. He ate and chomped and ate and chomped and ate. I remember he was such a little kid who always got into trouble with food.

So, after the movie, we all piled into the Datsun station wagon (Datsun later became the Nissan company). I remember sitting behind the passenger seat and my younger brother sitting behind the driver's seat. Our parents drove home, then my brother groaned and said something that he didn't feel so good. When the Datsun pulled up the driveway and finally stopped, the moment the car stopped and we all leaned forward from the stopping motion, he puked all over the back of the driver's seat! I could smell the heavy aromas of popcorn, butter and that unsavory scent of vomit combined into one smell. It was too much to handle the scent and seeing the bright yellow, white chunks swishing around in vomit on the station wagon's floor. It was so nasty!

*shudder!*

If you offer me popcorn, I'll be thinking in the back of my mind when I politely decline your offer, "Forget the popcorn, bitch!"