Aluminium Okay

Get it together, Angela. You technically haven’t done anything wrong.

Well, you have, but it’s not your fault. Not totally your fault. Sort of your fault, and sort of the fault of thousands of years of cultural norms. I haven’t extensively researched the local culture, and thus I was totally unaware that aluminium is offensive to them. I just made them a casserole to say ‘welcome to the neighbourhood, neighbours!’ and I covered it in aluminium foil because…you know, keeping it fresh. But then Mrs Grazer across the hall rang my doorbell and said that I need to take this thing in pronto, because if the family saw it (or worse, if they’d already seen it and left it on the doorstep in disgust) then I could be causing grievous offence.

But…there’s that fellow at my husband’s work, and he does things with toolboxes, ute trays, aluminium accessories…it’s most of my husband’s work. You can’t do that job and not touch aluminium. It’s an impossible task.

So is it a split thing, like the people in the north of the country see aluminium is a horrendous sin, and the people in the south aren’t that bothered? Maybe I should know, because it’s current year and the fact that we have so much information at our fingertips should mean that there are no faux pas. Oh, that’s just wonderful…my aluminium gaffe means that I now have to awkwardly greet this family when I meet them in the hallway, and they’ll be whispering and calling me ‘that aluminium devil’ and my house will get egged on Halloween night.  I don’t want to be cleaning egg off my door…so I guess I’d better apologise, pronto. And also, ask my husband to ask that one fellow how he handles aluminium toolboxes without upsetting his family.

EDIT: Alright, Mrs Grazer was spouting nonsense, and it’s the neighbouring country that finds aluminium offensive. And now I have to make a new casserole.

-Angela