Seriously?

My Sweetie told me not to blog about this, so don't tell him.

Last night, we had date night and went to see Surrogates, with Bruce Willis (it was just a'ight for me, dawg -- picture me impersonating Randy Jackson from American Idol).

As we entered the foyer to purchase tickets, I remarked, "Someone has burned the popcorn (it was smelling up the place)".

We arrived nice and early -- I like to see the previews of upcoming movies -- and the auditorium wasn't very crowded (should have taken this as a sign). I got our seats while my Sweetie went for the popcorn.

He comes back with a large bag overflowing with popcorn -- YumYum! Or, so I think.

The popcorn is burnt. I can actually see burnt pieces in the bag. It smells burnt. It smells burnt and it looks burnt.

Me: This popcorn is burnt. Didn't you notice it was burnt?

Him (with a mouthful): Is it?

Me: Couldn't you taste that it was burnt?

Him: It's burnt?

Me (pointing): These pieces are black.

Him: You think it's burnt?

Me (Looking at him crazy): Yes. Why didn't you ask for some freshly popped, unburnt, popcorn?

Him (Still not getting that it's burnt): You think it's burnt?

At this point, I'm not angry, but I am having serious doubts about his senses of taste and smell. Is loss of senses a sign of a stroke or heart attack?

I take the bag out of his hand, leave the theater, and return with a bag of freshly popped, unburnt, popcorn. Which he proceeds to devour.

Men!