Most humans have different preoccupations for each decade of their lives. In the mid-forties one of the main things that my friends and I talk about is our health. From intermittent fasting and counting calories to maintaining diaries and charts, we are all busy. But sometimes, our resolve is put to the test.
My husband and I decide to go watch a movie. The show is at 9 pm, and we decide to leave home by 7 pm to run a few errands and then head to the movie hall.
We discuss dinner plans. My husband bravely announces that he will skip dinner, so that he can eat popcorn without any guilt. This irritates me, as I want to eat both – dinner and popcorn! Today is my cheat day and so I want to leverage it to the maximum.
My husband is unwavering in his resolve, till he sees the menu card. I manage to wolf down a huge dosa, while he eats another type of dosa. We feel guilty, but pronounce ourselves satisfied. He does some entering into his food calorie counter app. After running some errands we finally reach the movie hall.
Two regular tubs of salted popcorn please, I hear myself ask. I protect the popcorn and hug it close. The aroma is tantalizing. I move the flap and quickly pop two pieces into my mouth. My husband postulates that one should start eating only after the movies starts playing. I disagree. We take our seats. In just a few minutes, I open the tub of popcorn and start eating, savouring every bit.
As I watch the titles roll in, one piece of popcorn bounces off my mouth and falls down. What a loss! I pick up the piece and put it into a piece of tissue from my bag. I promise myself to be careful, and not lose anymore popcorn. My husband has not started eating his popcorn yet. Strange, I think.
As the plot unfurls, I start feeling cold. The aircon is freezing. I pass my popcorn tub to my husband for safe-keeping, and pull out my stole from my handbag. I wrap it snugly around myself, and then turn to my husband. I am shocked. My husband is helping himself to my popcorn. I ask him to open his palm. There are three pieces. I ask him how many he has already eaten. Two he says with a huge grin, as he sees my face.
I take back my tub. I ask him to open his tub of popcorn. I carefully count out five pieces of popcorn from his and transfer them to mine. My husband’s shoulders are shaking in mirth. But he doesn’t get it. This is popcorn. I am generous, but not that generous. Calories or no calories, five pieces are five pieces. So there!