Medium

The boys and I took Nana to see Big Hero 6 the other day (great movie, by the way). As we were waiting in line to buy tickets, my oldest son announced he was going to buy himself some popcorn.

“Did you bring your money?” I asked.

“Yep.”

“Cool.” I looked at his younger brother. “How about you?”

“Nope. I don’t need money.” He produced a bag of Halloween candy from one of his pockets. “I’m smuggling it in.”

I typically get the kid popcorn trays ($5 for a reasonable amount of popcorn, a small soda, and a little packet of candy) for everyone, but since the kids were all set and Nana didn’t want anything, I just ordered one for myself.

“I’ll have a medium popcorn,” my son said when it was his turn.

“Wait,” I said. “Are you sure you want a medium?”

“Yeah. A large would be way too big.”

“So’s a medium!”

He ignored me. “Medium, please.”

The cashier glanced at me and I gave him the it’s-his-money shrug. He told the popcorn guy, and in very little time, they were handing my son a medium popcorn.

I don’t know if you’ve been to a movie theater recently, but the popcorn sizes are ridiculous. In this case, a medium was seven dollars, and the bag was at least a foot and a half deep. My son had bought a quantity of popcorn that was actually larger than his head.

He tried to look nonchalant as they handed it to him.

His little brother’s eyes grew huge. “You’re gonna share, right?”

“Nah. I got this.”

“You’re going to finish it all?” Nana asked.

“Sure.”

He worked on it the whole movie, and into the credits. By the time we were walking out of the theater, there were just a few bits of popcorn left for him to throw out.

“Got room for pizza?” I asked.

“Sure,” he said, deadpan. “Why not?”

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