Think about it for a second, bud. I know that, in the heated intensity of your popcorn devouring, you felt a tiny piece, a tiny, miniscule fraction of a cooked kernel, fall. You felt it flee from your fingertips, spinning through the air and hitting the front of your shirt. It tumbled away, and at that point, it was lost in space… until now. A few seconds later, there it sits on the couch cushion, waiting to be consumed.
You’re pretty sure that all of that happened, but are you sure enough?
Are you positive that that’s part of a formerly whole popcorn kernel? Because, really, until you put it in your mouth, you don’t know. It looks golden and yellowish, but so do cereal crumbs and petrified boogers. Are you going to chance eat a petrified booger? It’s so small that your taste buds probably wouldn’t be able to intercept any flavor from it anyway, so you’d never know the difference. And that’s the danger of it. That could be fossil snot entering your mouth. You have every right to be afraid.
Are you certain that it’s from today’s fresh popcorn batch? Think about the dozens of times that you’ve made popcorn and eaten it on THAT VERY SAME COUCH. How many loose nuggets are just rolling around, on and inside your furniture? You could be eating 2014’s popcorn, or you could be eating 2008’s popcorn. You’re dipping your fingers into a potential popcorn museum. Are you sure that you want to risk eating artifacts? Those artifacts with years and years of butt lingering on them? The paranoia that you feel isn’t imaginary.
But go ahead, by all means, eat the paltry remainder of a fucking popcorn kernel. If it’s that valuable to satisfying your daily nutritional and current hunger needs, consume it with the same wild abandon that you consumed its kin with. But just know that you may be eating your current popcorn’s ancestors, or an unfortunate former passenger of your nasal canal.
The choice is yours. Don’t be a fool.