Lots of things confuse me.
But when I’m not being stunned by the slighting of a song about some girl with a name so odd that one could question its authenticity, I am continually baffled by tupperware.
More specifically, the obsession women have with these tiny containers made of plastic that you must make burp.
I just don’t understand it.
I threw away a container that had tuna in it for about eight months and when I told Ari, I’m fairly certain that she wanted to knife me. Usually she only wants to knife me after I drink too much.
But when she heard that one of her plastic food saviors had met its end because I’m lazy and didn’t want to wash it, I got a death stare and a Stern Talking To that ended with me assuring her that I will buy another container.
And heaven help the poor man who leaves tupperware at some party! Because women, despite being able to tell you what Lauren Conrad did yesterday that was just so fake, do not realize that tupperware is available to be purchased at any moment! In stores! Everywhere!
I’ve seen it!
If I wanted to, I could get you a medium container in twenty minutes. I might throw it away or lose it by next week, but dammit I will get you that container.
There really is no need for all the dramatics behind tupperware.
If a piece happens to disappear, then please, please just shake it off. Us men will go into battle, slay another piece for you and bring it back, triumphantly proclaiming, “Woman! I bring you small tupperware! Now attend to my loins!”
Just don’t ask us to find the lid that goes with that weird shaped one.