1)
Confidence and Grandiosity: My containers match!
They are new! I have a container zone and a lid zone. Any items
that do not speak to me with their usefulness and beauty will land on the donation
pile. The streamlined organization I now see reflects the order and contentment
of my life. There is nothing I can’t do! I will savor my time with them, and
keep them in their unsullied state. Jaunty shelf liner adds to my general
awesomeness!
2)
Enjoyment: As I drift to sleep this first night, I know I have a
kick-ass cabinet full of containers to meet all of my food storage needs. Bonus
points: Pretty Colors! Extra Extra Credit: Labels!
3) Reality, Confusion, and
Bargaining: So maybe I don’t have time to stack the bottoms in concentric
circles every time. Sure, I throw them in, slam the door, and hope for the best,
but every container has a mate. Of this I am sure. Gah! Lids have started rolling to
the black hole in the back. Perhaps I must adjust my plan. I PROMISE to store each
container with its lid on. Sure it takes up more space, but never again shall
they part.
4) Denial: I do not recognize anything
in this cabinet! Are kids stealing my stuff? Who has replaced my beautiful containers
with one corn nib, a kit for making homemade popsicles, a sesame noodles
container from Whole Foods, and a black Lean Cuisine tray? This is NOT MY CABINET.
THIS IS NOT A THING OF BEAUTY! All I want to do is put my crappy food away, so
it can be rejected again tomorrow.
5) Despair: If one more plastic thing falls on me when I
open this door, I will torch this crap. You say the fumes are bad for me?
Whatevs.
6) Acceptance: Today the dishwasher
melted my last perfectly sized container. The only ones left will hold either a
full-sized lasagna or a grape. All matchmaking attempts have failed and my unpartnered
pile has grown in size but shrunk in usefulness. I will breathe through my frustration. I will acknowledge that organized storage containers are not part of my life. That Nothing Gold can Stay. I will use tin foil as a cover. And perhaps someday soon, I will dream of the future and Google plastic-ware with attached lids.
I am currently in Stage 5.
ReplyDeleteHa! I love this. I think I am permanently stuck in stage five, but now that I think about it, most of my containers are best used for the storage of that single grape. Why do they make those things so small? The only reason we all still have them is because they have NEVER been taken out of the cabinet to get lost or melted. Why, yes, I will divide my leftovers into 36 evenly grape-sized containers. That sounds great!
ReplyDeleteOOHHHH!!! Where can I buy the ones in the picture??? drool...drool... drool...
ReplyDeletethis is totally me. I once attended a Tupperware party and fell for the sales pitch hook line and sinker. I was convinced that with just a little (or a lot) of money I'd have these little beauties and I would instantly see results in my wallet (all those leftovers for lunch! No waste! No dollars at the deli!) and my dress size would drop in a matter of days (all those healthy leftovers! Tiny containers for carrots and such!). Everyone would want the new size six me to come to their summer picnics because I HAVE THE DEVILED EGG CONTAINER! (Note- I had never made a deviled egg). As per ususal it didn't work out that way. The only time I used the container was when I took eggs on the metro and stunk up the Orange Line from Ballston to Farragut. Bitterly disappointed yet I still hang on to the dream that my containers will improve every aspect of my life. Glad you are the same dear Anna. So glad.
ReplyDeleteI know this cabinet. I also know about good container theft. I have curated from family half my container supply along with a few utensils and nice pans. When my inlaws, who live nearby, come to visit and need to take home food, I preface the container offering with, "This is probably yours. Makre sure I get it back." And then I have to search for the matching lid.
ReplyDeleteIf I lived alone, I am certain that my container cabinet would be pristine and all containers would have matching lids and none of the containers would be stained and half melted from someone nuking something with a tomato sauce. On the other hand, I would live alone. Sigh.
ReplyDeleteAmy
This is EXACTLY my house/brain/problem. I laughed out loud at this....because I never realized I do this over and over. Now to stop the madness!
ReplyDeleteSheila
Love this - especially slamming the door and hoping for the best.
ReplyDeleteThanks for the giggle!
Janet
The part about the only options either holding a "full-size lasagna or a grape" made me laugh out loud. So good......
ReplyDeleteAmen. We just bought another box at Costco to celebrate back-to-school. They are so pretty! And will stay that way for about a week.
ReplyDeleteI LOVE this! Every few months I go through them all and spend a few hours reveling in the fact that EVERY plastic container in my house has a lid! Then, my sweet offspring open the cabinet and the cycle begins again! :-)
ReplyDeleteHaha, this is totally me. I have nightmares about the tupperware cabinet of my childhood. Over the years, I have found that I personally have more luck with glassware. It's more expensive and they can chip rather than melt, but if you're patient and take care with them once you have 'em, you can find good deals and attain greater longevity/durability. Pyrex. :)
ReplyDeleteSarah
You made me laugh! Stage 5 was totally me last night, as I tried to put leftover food in a plastic food container. denial. I wanted to huck all the unmatched food containers into the trash, as they fell on me. I may go to using ziploc bags. Not quite at the acceptance stage yet.
ReplyDeleteThis sentence " The only ones left will hold either a full-sized lasagna or a grape" made me literally laugh out loud. At my desk, at work. Uh oh...
ReplyDeleteThis was my life! I can so relate.
ReplyDeleteLast year I moved to glass containers by Pyrex (they were at Costco and were pretty cheap to buy) and they are the bomb-diggety. Check em out!
I think I'm at stage 6, I've accepted that I will never have matching containers anymore! It's just not in the cards for me, and for today, I'm okay with that! :)
ReplyDeleteSo funny and so true! My friend and I are actually going to see a hilarious one-woman show called Dixie's Tupperware Party and it's even more fun because Fixie is actually a man in drag. The show spoofs Tupperware but you can buy some at intermission and I will probably be first in line! HA!
ReplyDeleteThe lids, they are like socks. They just disappear into thin air. Now attached lids, that sounds like a great idea. But you must switch to glass... cuz you know the plastic ones are bad for your health. Maybe.
ReplyDeleteI absolutely love this. I am glad to know other grown ups suffer :)
ReplyDeleteI'm pretty sure my missing storage container lids are hiding somewhere in the dryer...
ReplyDelete...with a whole lot of missing single socks.
Ha! I am in stage 3a - there is still some hope left ;)
ReplyDeleteAwesome post, Anna!
"Corn nib." You got me.
ReplyDeletehttp://www.amazon.com/Covermate-Stretch--Covers-Convenient-Reclosable/dp/B005FDMJV0/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1408156820&sr=8-1&keywords=covermate+food+covers
ReplyDeleteBah! Stage 4 is me!
ReplyDeleteI'm in the perpetual OCD stage where I'm militant about stacking and putting lids where I can find them… and my husband still plays dumb when both putting away leftovers and unloading the dishwasher. Even though the lids are RIGHT next door to the container.
ReplyDeleteWhat's the stage where you have Tupperware but eschew them for GladWare because they stack better?
I'm totally at that stage, too.
Excellent post. There should be a 12-step recovery program.
After visiting my cousin's gourmet and OCD (for real) designed kitchen, I wanted to restructure our cabinets and have one high up for a true set of storage containers. Brad wouldn't go for it.
ReplyDeleteWe do use mostly Pyrex, so we're good in that way, though my lunch tends to weigh at least ten pounds...
What I'd like to know? What do people do with all the plastic flatware that comes home from take out. I can't throw it away, and I've started giving it back before ever leaving the establishment (aka pulling away from the drive through window), but I still have scads of it.
yes. i fantasize about exactly these things -- perfect containers for my food. and then, after deliberating for a while and saying "I don't really NEED it so get a grip Erica," I finally convince myself to buy it. i go through the stages listed here and then I say to myself, "maybe this time I'll learn that these material things never make my life better."
ReplyDeletebut then I don't learn. and I do it again soon. very well examined! E.
Yes. Just YES.
ReplyDeleteI literally laughed out loud at this & even find myself going back to re-read the part about the only containers left that are intact, will hold either 'a full-size lasagna or a grape'!!! That ALWAYS seems to be what I have left in my cupboard for leftovers. And I can never figure out why my husband just can't seem to make the judgement and KNOW that half a bowl of leftover mashed potatoes will NOT fit in the container that will only hold the one grape! Why does he even need to ask that? And, if we start out with an entire set of matching containers, how do I always get odd ones in that cupboard that don't belong, and where did all the matching ones go?
ReplyDeleteThis was so funny, Anna! Thank-you for sharing your wonderful talent with us. Sending hugs.
I am rolling on the floor over here! You have perfectly summed up every container cabinet in the world.
ReplyDeleteThe people I live with (who usually empty the dishwasher) are to blames for the shape mine is in. Of this, I'm convinced. Because, if it were up to me, it would be perfect (yeah, right).
I actually have a new set that I'm saving for when we move when my husband retires. (A few more years) Ours are definitely a mess. Enjoyed this post!
ReplyDeletethis is my life!
ReplyDeleteI am waiting until the 3D printers are affordable enough for each home to have one and then I will just print out a new container when I need one.......Problem solved! LOL
ReplyDeleteOh my this made me laugh soooo much. Of course because I completely relate. Both me and my husband hate that cupboard with all the tupperware. One of these days we'll clean it out. Yes one of these days...
ReplyDeleteAbout 2 months ago we took them all out, found matching lids, and threw out the other lidless conainters or containerless lids. I currently have the lids matched (somewhat) but it's declining day by day...by Christmas I will have to start all over again. Containers and lids are just like trying to keep pairs of socks together in the laundry. LOL!
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My husband laughs at my container storage. So I have more lids than containers, but who knows when we need extra lids, yes?
ReplyDeleteI see now that I am not alone. I have been living in Stage 6 for a long time, with occasional relapses into Stage 5.
ReplyDeleteI only know Stage One. There are lesser people with other stages?
ReplyDelete5 weeks into our 6 week summer holiday from school. And the job of organising the container pile corner of the kitchen has ben put off time and again. Tomorrow we are going away for a week - then we are back to school. The container pile will remain unorganised for another year....
ReplyDeleteThis is so perfect—and REAL!
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