Saturday, March 15, 2008

hey look, a whole post about plastic containers!!!!

When I was first out on my own and setting up my own kitchen, I owned about three Tupperware containers - they were great, solid, sturdy, 70's orange - what more could you want? Of course, my habit of forgetting leftovers in said containers caught up with me and those containers are long gone.

When companies started coming out with disposable plastic containers, I was so excited - because I needed food storage and sometimes (okay, usually) I would rather throw something away than play "what the hell was that".

So now, I've amassed this collection of every size and shape of containers - I've probably got fifty in my cupboard - but can anyone explain how every time I need a container, it turns into an episode of the Maury show? I find a container, pull out ten lids, try them all on, but each time - "you are NOT the father correct lid" and then I end up covering it with plastic wrap. Not really a time, or energy saver.

~~~~~

Mildly unrelated, but it's really my only other Tupperware story. A little while after my parents got divorced, about a billion years ago, my sister and I had tomato red Tupperware lunchboxes. We were in the process of trying to sell our house, which meant that the house had to be clean all the time - after a while, we got pretty good at faking clean, like hiding dirty clothes under the beds or dirty dishes in the cabinet - one day, a realtor called to say that he or she was coming over to view the house - I was home alone, so instead of washing the dishes in the sink (my sister's lunchbox was in there), I shoved them into the oven (something I'd seen my mom do more than once). The showing went fine, the house looked immaculate. Of course, I was just as scatter-brained then as I am now, so I totally spaced on the load of dishes in the oven. This wasn't an issue until my mom heated up the broiler to toast a bagel (the broiler was in that oven drawer in the bottom of the oven). Who would have known that plastic would behave badly at 500 degrees? Long story even longer, by the time I remembered the lunchbox (many hours later) it was a heavy plastic disk, about an inch thick. I disposed of the evidence and vowed never to hide dishes in the oven again. My mom never found out and I'm pretty sure my sister got blamed for the loss of the 'Ware (sorry about that, jules)

Yep - I just wrote a whole damn post about plastic containers. Beat that.

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