My obsession with acrylic tumblers goes way back. It began in 1988 when I was a Tupperware Lady.

Teachable Moment: Do not call acrylic tumblers glasses. That is silly as you cannot have an acrylic tumbler made out of glass. I know, it’s semantics; but I wouldn’t want anyone (namely me) to make fun of you for misuse of the word. Also (and this may seem weird since I am so finicky about acrylic tumbler versus glass lingo) it didn’t bother me at all to be called a Tupperware Lady even though I am not made out of Tupperware.

By the time the late 1990s rolled around, my obsession had grown to the point that I couldn’t walk by a store display with acrylics on it. I had to stop and touch – feel the rim to see if it was smooth enough to drink from, turn it over to see if it would collect water in the bottom when put in the dishwasher. I didn’t buy a lot of them (a marriage saving decision), but a girl could dream. Dream of having cupboards full of different sizes and colors of non-shattering acrylic – some for wine, some for margaritas, some for juice, some for tea. They are the perfect thing for use by a pool.

Only we didn’t have a pool. It is true. Not all people who live in Florida own a pool. Let that sink in. I know it’s shocking that anyone could live down here with this amount of heat and sunshine and not have a pool, but it happens.

But then something amazing occurred. My husband Bob’s company had been giving him stock options and they were growing in value beyond our wildest dreams. That meant that I could buy all of the acrylics that I desired!

Seriously, Bob said he thought it was time for us to get a pool. The kids were older and would not need constant supervision. It would be wonderful for our family. We came up with a plan. We secretly shopped a pool company and started on the design; and, best of all, Bob said I could buy new acrylic tumblers to use during the big announcement to the kids.

After dinner one night we had the kids hang back at the table for a little family pow-wow. Bob said we had something to tell them and then looked to me. I brought out a bag and started pulling acrylic tumblers out of it and placing them on the table.

“Do you know what these are for?” we asked, and got the standard smart-alecky responses.

“Why acrylic? Why would that be important from a safety point of view?” I asked.

Soon one of the kids jumped up and yelled, “We’re getting a pool!”

There were shouts of joy and excitement. We explained that everything was in order; we just had to wait two short weeks before we could sell the stock and finalize the purchase. We could almost see an enormous hole being dug in our yard. We even took a tree down in preparation.

It was an active two weeks. We felt like we were living in a bubble of joy and anticipation until we realized that that bubble was actually the “Dot-Com Bubble.” And during those two weeks it burst. We were unable to sell enough stock in time and our plan to get a pool was suddenly the only thing that was all wet.

That sweet acrylic life.

The kids took it well – probably better than I did. Life does have its disappointments; but if this was as bad as it gets, that’s not bad at all.

So whenever we talk about that stock we now call it the “worthless stock.” The kids still get a kick out of our big announcement using, as they call them, “the pool glasses.” That’s the thing that really hurts. They won’t even call them acrylics.

Happily now Bob and I do have a pool. It took over 15 years to get it, but we finally feel like real Floridians. And now as a “safety precaution,” I have lots of acrylic tumblers, too. Life is good.