When my son and daughter were teenagers, we had a ritual that we went through every three or four months. While their mother was at work, we would take all of the Tupperware bowls out of the refrigerator, throw out the contents, and then wash the containers.
My wife was a fanatical Tupperware “junkie.” Instead of throwing out the leftovers, she would put them in a tupperware bowl in the refrigerator. If there were 10 green beans and one boiled potato, it was saved for “later.” After awhile, what was in those bowls would coalesce into a greenish primordial slime.
Three distinct episodes come to mind. One time I opened a container and two little green hands were gripping the side. I quickly slammed the lid shut and threw the container out the back door.
The second episode was when I opened a lid and smoke came boiling out. Pretty soon the contents caught on fire. It was my first close-up experience with spontaneous combustion. Needless to say, I threw that container out the back door.
The last episode was when I opened a container and seven morel mushrooms were growing in the bowl. I immediately had dreams of getting rich for being the first person to domesticate them. My joy soon faded when I realized that I didn’t know what the contents of that bowl was. How could I grow mushrooms if I didn’t know what to plant them in.
I guess Ray Countians will have to settle for hunting wild morels. Sorry about that.
– Robert D. Smith, RHS Class of ‘57