Microwave Popcorn Bowls are convenient. We’ve relied on one bowl for five years straight. Used four times a day, every day for years. Because I feed popcorn to the wild ducks outside. Popped popcorn is a favorite. We’ve tried many bowls of many materials, but this microwave popcorn bowl has stood the test of time and large flocks of demanding ducks.
We began outgrowing its capacity after the mallards joined the Muscovy who invited the gull. We were considering replacement production ideas when the unthinkable happened. As in, I wasn’t thinking.
Always supervise your Microwave Popcorn Bowl.
It sits alone on the cement pavers. Smoldering still, filled with repugnant waters of char and death. It’s lived a long life. It served well. It never faltered, waned or gave in to our demands. Until today.
It sits alone in the backyard, a testament to fate itself and the distractions of an easily distracted mind. My intent was benevolent. I only wanted to use it for an afternoon of pleasure with a beer. I wanted to share half the bowl with wild things with wings. Yes, I’ve used it many times for this 3 o’clock pleasure. Until today.
Oh, fate of dyslexic brain and nimble fingers! Oh, ye fickle fat finger of time settings. OH!! Fool that I am! Quickly I set the timer as I had so many times before and then, even quicker did I quickly step up the stairs to my art studio with an idea of starting something or other. I would only be a minute, I thought. I bet I beat the microwave, I thought, again. I should stop thinking so much.
When setting the timer, double check your finger work.
I had accidentally set the microwave for thirty-four minutes not three minutes and forty seconds. I spent five minutes upstairs rather than one. The house smells like charred wombat.
I guess we should get that popcorn popper we were talking about. The house will smell like a movie theater concession, not charred wombat. That’s a plus.