The May Bank holidays always reminds me of the family days out of my childhood. My Dad cracking hardboiled eggs on the dashboard of the Anglia; my sister and I, shivering from the sea, sitting on a cooler box the size of a bank safe tucking into ham and sand sandwiches. The orange squash, fruit juice had yet to be discovered, the Tupperware tainted salads.
It was the age of Tupperware; when future archaeologists try to excavate our past they will first have to break through the hermetically sealed plastic seam of the seventies. Each upstanding piece of porcelain in our house had its own portable, plastic nemesis.
Whilst some 70s parents where chucking their car keys into the middle of the room, mine had thrown their whole lot in with Tupperware INC. Beakers, bowls, mugs and jugs; the boot of the Anglia was full of it. My favourite was the infamous ‘Slim Jim’, a hybrid of a container which went everywhere with us. As it bore no relation to any other product in existence we always referred to it by its marketing-moniker “Slim Jim’. I like to think that somewhere, in retirement, a former Tupperware executive is lamenting his forgotten finest-hour, wondering why the world has forsaken the ‘Slim Jim’. If it is any consolation Jim Senior your ‘Slim Jim’ is doing fine in my Dad’s shed where it is an effective rodent-proof receptacle for birdseed. Completely un-biodegradable, future experts on the Antiques Road Show will undoubtedly ponder its purpose; confusingly it will still smell of orange squash and creosote.
My mother would spend every picnic endlessly rotating boxes of Tupperware between beach bags and the cooler box, fitting one box inside the other as the contents were gradually consumed, until the final piece of the puzzle would fit into place and the last lid would snap shut. It was like watching a five-hour episode of the Krypton Factor.
These days rather than being up all night we buy freshly prepared foods locally. I pack a few plates, a breadboard and our Batard folding picnic knife from the shop and we are quite literally on our way! Always pack some decent wine glasses wrapped in napkins, if you break them so what? Wine from plastic is terrible and paper ones quickly turn soggy.
One tip here if you are intent on being the designated drinker then greet your travelling companions at the door with the offer of a Mimosa. It doesn’t matter if you have had any alcohol or not, just the sight of you with an empty champagne flute will excuse you from all driving duties for the whole day!
Parents of teenage children should remember you have a one-year window of opportunity, during which they are old enough to drive but too young to drink. Use this time wisely, not forgetting the year ends with their 18th celebrations, so it comes with built-in bargaining power!
We’ll see you on the prom! Make mine a Ninety-nine!
First published in the May 2009 issue of SE22 Magazine
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