my mother's Tupperware parties.
the gathering
of neighborhood
women
in the living room
buying
the latest Tupperware
containers.
it was a way to pick up a few
bucks
to keep the younger
kids in diapers
and baby formula.
on the dining room table
a display of
plastic boxes and bowls
in all sizes
were laid out.
sometimes a hammer was used
to demonstrate how
durable and unbreakable they were.
i'd sit on the steps,
hidden,
and listen
to the chatter.
they were all smoking and
getting loaded
on beer and wine,
with their big loaf hair,
eating Ritz crackers
with chunks
of cheddar cheese on top.
but the selling part
of it all
quickly fell apart in time.
it became
a venting session
about children and husbands.
or a heated discussion about
which detergent
got the clothes most white.
sometimes a fight
would break out.
the floozy of the neighborhood,
in her low cut
pink sweater,
would be accused
of flirting
with a husband or two.
that's when the fun
really started
and the fur would fly.
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