Tupperware.

I was told that hate was a very strong word, and should be used sparingly.

Fine. I can agree, therefore: I detest, loathe, abominate and despise Tupperware. In any form.

There are people for whom God (or, whatever Greater Being(s) you prefer) created Tupperware.

First, as a wonderful opportunity to give up the three martini bridge dates, and Do Something Productive - as though running a home full of raging pre-teen-testosterone and puppy estrogen wasn't enough, add the vacuuming, cleaning, laundry, shopping, cooking etc - make your own income. Your very own cold, hard, cash! Personally? I'd NEVER have been behind women's lib, if I knew I had to pass on said three martini Ladies Only Playdates. What I would give (my ex-husband leaps to mind here - I'd sell his sorry ass to scientists in a heartbeat) to be able to lounge around, display an array of plastic wares as an excuse to get completely blitzed before going home to throw a pot roast in the oven before adjusting my lipstick for Hubs to come home to.

I digress.

Tupperware. Wives were thrilled. Ways to save leftovers, reasons for parties, whole new reasons to drink in the afternoon! and free passes to get out at night, away from totally doted on, completely spoiled spouses who's idea of cleaning up was Dear, I'm Finished Eating. They came in intriguing sizes, colors, matching lids, even pitchers! (to hold said martini's) - the world re-joyced.

30 years pass.

New colors. New trends; new ways to keep the lids to the bases; ones designed for lunch boxes, freezers, single serve - you name it, Tupperware made it. Now? In my house? I've an entire lower cabinet devoted to Tupperware and it's ilk. Bottoms in bottoms; lids askew, I've taken to opening the damn door, just enough to get the bottom (or top) into the cupboard, before slamming door closed.

Retrieving Tupperware?

Yikes. Very Embarrassing, should I have company. All comes flying out, at the speed of lightening, much to the amusement of any house guest. Pucker learned one day to pop it open with her paw, and Holy Cow!

An entire new set of Chew Toys came flying out! Mecca from Chewing Heaven!

If my tops didn't match my bottoms before? They for damn sure won't now. I threw a bunch out - but that stuff multiplies while you're not watching. Screw the whole Poltergeist in the tv - or Gremlins - how they reproduce when touched with water (or whatever, my recall of that hideous movie's a bit shaky on details) - come watch it right before your very own eyes.

In my freaking Tupperware Cupboard.

I've a friend, K, who had a new baby; I dropped of three huge Tupperware containers. I've so far managed to completely leave them there. I gave some chili to a girlfriend, M, with a wee one sick at home, both parents running for all their worth? She brought it to a meeting we had - I declined to take it at the time. I thought perhaps, she'd tuck in her own Tupperware Hell and forget about it - but, I've never been lucky like that.

She practically hunted me down to return it.

Know why?

NO ONE needs extra Tupperware!

How sad is it when you can't even give this shit away?

The worst part is, it's practically a necessity: where else do I put all the stuff H didn't eat that is going to go into the fridge to die? If I throw away still good - well, I just can't, there are starving children somewhere that would give anything for the warm hot meal I assembled from a box and a pound of some form of ground meat. So I save it. Knowing, that it will die in there. We're programmed I think, so not only keep the leftovers we know no one will eat, but, also to then keep the container we stored it in in the first place!

You'd have thought, with the way I feel about Tupperware, I'd simply use it as a hospice for leftovers, tossing entire contaminated containers into the trash. It had served it's purpose: I would feel as though I wasn't wasting food someone else could benefit from (whom from my house specifically, I've not figured out) moving quite happily on with my life.

Enter Brainwashing: not only do I keep the damn original tupperware, I cannot for the life of me, throw out the plastic tubs that cottage cheese comes in, or already sliced overly salted deli-meat. Nope. I clean those suckers too, where they continue to multiply behind my back. Does everyone with a double x chromosome have the Save Everything Tupperware Or It's Variety gene?

I've noticed, it gets worse, this need for excess Tupperware - as well as the ability to tell friends and family how old said piece is - as we age.

Therefore, I'm starting now. I'm not getting liposucked, nipped, tucked, or enhanced - I'm going to age gracefully.

I'll start by throwing out all the damn Tupperware.