Yesterday, my neighbour dropped by to invite me to a “tuba party“. It was with some hesitation that I answered her friendly invitation – I first had to make my grey cells dance around feverishly in an attempt to find out what a tuba party is. After a few telling seconds, I surrendered. “Sorry, but… what is that? What do you mean?”
She explained: “A tuba party! You know, for tuba. You don’t have to buy the dishes, it’s enough if you just take part.”
I still didn’t get it: “Dishes? Well I think I need to check the available space in the kitchen first.”
She insisted: “If you have time, just come, everyone will get a present.”
I said I’ll think about it, smiled at her sheepishly and said goodbye.
My husband almost fell from his chair: “A Tupper party? Don’t go, they’ll want you to sell the stuff, not just buy it.”
Tupperware. Of course I know Tupper. I just didn’t see the connection.