Last weekend, my wife brought our family to a farm fair. It was quintessential New England. Cows. Corn. Arts and craft stands.
I went up to one of the stands and ordered a medium sized bag of kettle corn.
“That’ll be $7,” said the guy who handed me the bag.
Seven bucks. For a bag of popcorn. Not like $7 is a big deal to me. But man – this was a little farm stand. It’s not like I was at the movies in NYC.
Needless to say, the first couple of bites were a little salty to me…and it had nothing to do with the way the popcorn tasted.
Seven. Freaking. Dollars. For popcorn.
“Honey, seven bucks! Can you believe that?” I asked my wife.
That’s when I saw an old man approach the stand.
“How much for the kettle corn?” he asked.
“$5 for the small. $7 for the medium. $9 for the large.”
“Thank you…but that’s a bit out of my price range,” said the older man.
“Hey – I notice your hat,” said popcorn man. “From one disabled vet to another – your popcorn is on me.”
For the next couple of minutes, the two men chatted back and forth about their service. They talked about our country and other vets. They talked about faith.
I took another bite of the popcorn. This time the kettle corn tasted sweet – just the way kettle corn is meant to taste.
I just can’t believe that popcorn only cost seven bucks.
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