I love popcorn. Like, really, really love popcorn. Alex, one of my roommates in university, has disliked the smell ever since she lived with me, because she breathed in too many popcorn fumes.

When left to my own devices, I eat it for dinner.

So, when the kids were tucked into bed last week and Min was out seeing a movie with friends, I made a big bowl of popcorn and settled down to watch trash TV. When I got to the bottom of the bowl, I started looking for those crunchy, half-popped kernels. And that’s when I noticed a small black spec.

When I turned on the light, I could see another black spec. With legs.

I ran into the kitchen and emptied the air popper. No specs. Then I emptied the bag. SPECS! And let’s be honest, they were not specs, they were BUGS.

Weevils. (Because of course I googled them immediately to make sure I wasn’t going to die.) Weevils apparently love popcorn just as much as I do. And they can have it. Because I don’t think I’m ever, ever eating it again.