Tupperwary

I was surprised to be invited to a Tupperware party. My first thought was, are they still making that stuff?

With a drawer filled with mismatched tops and bowls, I have struggled in decluttering phases to try to coerce (some may say force) a Tupperware lid onto an incompatible and unrelenting bottom. Unfortunately, I've not been able to bring myself to throw the tops or bottoms out, don't ask me why. I'm sure when I get run over by a bus they'll be handy to help house the leftover asparagus rolls at the 'after party'.

The party was fun, it was women, surprisingly young women, all keen to engage (some might say fight) in trying to win tiny portions of Tupperware with their Tupperware auction money. It was like plastic gold, well it certainly seemed to be priced that way (it has a lifetime guarantee which cannot be said of many of the plastic purchases from the $2 shop). Slap! I am now the proud owner of a little plastic boxy thingy that I can pop in my fridge and it acts like a mini-cryogenic chamber for my tomatoes (well at least two medium sized ones, maybe four cherry). It was excellent fun, with a well mannered and slightly quirky host. (As an aside, am a bit worried about a wizened Tomato Disney emerging from the depths of the fridge in a few years time...cue Fantasia music.)

What worried me, was the worry factor which had not been factored into my Worry Table prior to the party attendance. Wrinkles. Mouth wrinkles, get worse when you sup from squirty bottles. I very nearly bought a lovely green bottle with a wide mouth to allay further chasms opening up around my lips. It was something I'd never worried about. I can only imagine that while out jogging I'd nearly submerge myself if I was trying to avoid wrinkles as I supped from a Tup'. I'm trying all sorts of pouty manoeuvres to try to rectify the damage I've no doubt done by sucking on the wrong type of bottle for years and years.

And there we have it. Plastic that lasts longer, albeit often forgotten, than many children born on the wrong side of the coin.

But I do aspire to my pantry looking like the one featured in one of Tupperware's brochures. Sparkling, clutterless and the joy of actually being able to find the vanilla essence when you need it.

Perhaps we should fill some Tupperware containers, all our mismatched ones and send them to the mouths that need it. When emptied, the lids and tubs could be used as tools.