Evelyn and I were discussing my recent kitchen overhaul.

After Meg left this past weekend from her awesome help, I ended up with a giant table full of Gladware. It was like the Island of Misfit Toys. Lids that didn’t fit anything, containers without lids, extra lids from who-knows-where, and a few thick thermal coffee mug lids (with no corresponding mugs) for good measure.

Gladware

What to do…what to do?

Evelyn and I decided there’s a great mystery afloat: you purchase Gladware because it’s cheap, it’s disposable, and it’s really not so much for posterity, right? And you pay $40 for a single plastic bowl from Tupperware because you want its durability, lifetime guarantee, and all-around usefulness…

So why is it that the Tupperware always disappears (at the church potluck dinners…with the sick friends to whom you take some good food…wherever), and the Gladware stays around, way beyond its useful life?

Great mysteries.

We think Gladware is akin to fruitcake. Nobody really knows why it persists for so long.

Tupperware is like those really good no-bake cookies everyone snarfs down — turn your head and it’s gone. Go figure.