What can I say, it's like crack to me.

Not thaaaat many people know that I was once a Tupperware sales lady. Officially titled a demonstrator. And a pretty crap one if I do say so myself. But I had one thing going for me. A love of the product. A love of amassing giant piles of the product, actually. I have two large cupboards full and often find myself thinking if only I had one more heat and eat… Or just one more fridge mate.

That’s where the addict bit comes in. Like there was ever any doubt. But what happened in the last month of Tupperware parties pushed me over the edge. Having attended a party or two and agreed to host one {free Tupperware, SQUEEEEEE} I promised Hubby, no more for now. I’d spent well into the two hundred region and times are tight in Suger’ville. No more I said. I’ll just go look. Famous last words.

Turns out. That didn’t work out so well. Three parties later we have three more orders coming. I attempted to hide the purchases from Hubby. Tucking the order slips deep into the depths of my bag. Careful not to rustle the paper too loudly in case he heard it. And say Liiiiiiiiiis, what’s that?

Because then I’d have to tell him. I’d never lie to him. Not more than the first accidental lie anyway. I tasted the taste of bitter-sweet success as I manged to stash order after order without comment. He has no idea I thought with glee. I’m such a super sneak. I’m so tricky. Ha.

I’m so gross actually! So I told Hubby. He knew, of course. He just assumed that the lure of the plastic was too much for me. He said sorry he hadn’t been there to help me through it. I told him he’s too nice and it makes me want to vomit sometimes. He agreed. So there you go, that’s my story. Yeah, yeah. We all have our thing. Stop judging me.

What’s your thing?

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