Tipsy Tupperware

Sunday, July 17, 2005

The sermon that day included a reference from R.C. Sproul, when Pastor Hatch had spent some one-on-one time with him over a summer in his past. At one point, sitting on R.C. Sproul’s living room couch, Dr. Sproul had picked up a cushion piece from the couch.

“What color is it?” He asked.

“White,” Pastor Hatch replied.

“What color is it?”

“White.”

Dr. Sproul held up the cushion piece to the ceiling.

“What color is it?”

“Cream,” Pastor Hatch said, seeing that the cushion was not as white as he had thought.

And so it was with the sin of humanity. The closer one came to Christ, as Pastor Hatch said, the greater one’s sin was evident. It was interesting to hear other’s stories and thoughts. And Collette found herself in two tense discussions that day alone, which passed. But then there were the stories mixed in as well.

The usual was being discussed about Ernest and George from Carrie’s point of view in the minivan as Dad, Mom, Collette, Carrie, Francis, and Linnea rode out to Augusta. ( The others were at youth group.) There was also talk of mischief and scheming.

“Carrie,” Dad was saying, “why don’t you just stay out of trouble?”

“Dad, you were more trouble than I was at my age.”

“No, I wasn’t.”

“Yeah, Dad, you were just too busy blowing up storm sewers.”

Dad began to laugh.

“And lying to your parents about exploring the mud caves.”

“And for that I repented,” Dad said.

“And stealing candy from drugstores,” Carrie continued, on a roll.

“And for that I repented as well,” Dad insisted, still laughing.

“And driving out to Colorado with just Uncle Mo when you were sixteen and eating nothing but lemon drops,” Collette added.

“Oh, man, I wish I could do that,” Carrie sighed wistfully.

And then they discussed the incident of a good number of years ago when Mom, Collette, and Carrie-Bri had been invited over to a neighbor’s house for a Tupperware party. They were soon rolling in laughter.

“I asked Carrie if she wanted to come to the Tupperware party,” Mom was saying, “And she asked me, ‘what’s a Tupperware party, Mom?’ And I said, ‘Well, Carrie, it’s where a bunch of ladies get together and buy Tupperware’. And Carrie stopped and laughed and said, ‘No, really, Mom, what’s a Tupperware party?’”

“And so we’re over there,” Carrie continued, “And these drunk ladies start rolling around on the floor, laughing.”

“Are you serious?” Dad laughed.

“Yeah. And Collette and I were just sitting there all scared.”

“No doubt with our eyes really wide, and in our little tennis shoes,” said Collette.

“And jumpers and matching braids,” Carrie added.

“You were really scared by that?” Dad asked.

“Yes, probably scarred for life,” Carrie insisted.

“And were they really drunk?” He asked, not quite sure he could believe the whole story.

“Well, if not drunk, pretty tipsy,” Collette said.

“Yeah, they were actually rolling on the floor,” Carrie insisted.

“And from that time on,” Mom added, “they never wanted to come to another Tupperware party again. Every time I thought about going to one, Carrie said, ‘No, Mom! Pleeeeeeease!’”

Surely, it had been an eye-opening experience to the most dangerous and mysterious world of Tupperware parties. And Collette and Carrie had never been to one since.

Meanwhile for dinner, they stopped by for groceries: pulled pork for dad, cheese tortellini for Carrie-Bri, and Texas toast, ice cream cone drumsticks, and goat cheese and crackers for an appetizer. Soon there was a gathering of everyone for a viewing of “Toy Story 2”. Pleasant way to end the evening.