Tupperware can hide in the back of my fridge for weeks, forming colorful fungal blooms inside them like little science projects. After that they devolve into more sinister substances, waiting for some hapless oaf to innocently open the lid. That hapless oaf is me. Maybe it was zucchini. Or eggplant. But now it’s something terrible. The smell hits me like an angry water-buffalo with autonomic gag reflex. I want to just throw the thing in the garbage, container and all, but since I care about the environment I clean it, even compost. It’s going to take this kind of courage to save the planet, and that’s what I bring to cleaning my refrigerator.