My grandparents on my mother’s side were immigrants and farmers. The life they led was truly difficult and hard, and like most immigrants, they sacrificed all that they had so that their children could have a better life. I won’t go into the poverty of their life, also affected by other events, but I will say that this had a direct bearing in my mother’s need to save things.
When my cousin Debbie was at my parent’s place, she couldn’t help but comment about the way containers were always, well, put in another container. It seems that her dad (my mom’s brother) also was a member of the Extreme Nesting Club. I laughed because I remember seeing something kind of funny involving toilet paper that my parents did, that another Uncle did at their home. Debbie laughed and told me that her dad also participated in this special toilet paper ritual.
My mother saved plastic containers that came from take-outs and deliveries. She had so many of them that they had to be disposed of due to sheer lack of space. I used to kid her about her collection, which I have to admit did come in handy when she’d give me food to take home. And of course, like mother like daughter, I could not throw those away either (via recycling) so I’d wash them and they’d get reused when I’d give someone food to take for lunch or home.
New Year’s Eve I involved a lot of Japanese food, including various sushi and an intricate futo-maki roll. I also had ordered tempura. I know most people might gasp at this, but I also enjoy mine cold so I made sure there was enough to left-overs today. Last night as I was cleaning up, I felt a tinge of excitement and delight as I realized that the food delivery containers were of such high quality that I could wash everything out and use it for take home meals for friends and family.
After washing the styrofoam containers, I have to admit that I have become my mother.
