tupperware

How do you keep all that lovely recycled tupperware organized? At our house, it is the bane of my existence. I either ignore it or rage at it. I think because it's all stacked on a shelf just above my eye level. Requires a chair to assess size, type and to find a matching lid. I don't want to store it with the lids on tight, cuts down stacking possibilities, and besides, it gets a bit smelly.

It's been suggested I move the collection to a lower drawer. These drawers contain equally important and heavier items that could end up falling on ones heads in the midst of a rant filled searching expedition. Of course, maybe we have too much. I could give some of it away? But the day after I did, would be the day I would be looking for one particular double compartment with matching lid, and then I'd be bereft. Worse than losing my cell phone because it would have been a conscious decision.

Tupperware is an old (trademarked term) term for plastic containers with matching tight fitting lids. Truly revolutionary in my mother's era. It was also traded among friends, implied a trusted relationship, was loaded with baking and easy dinners when a friend fell sick, was home after a new baby or on bed rest for anything. I also just recently heard a touching story about the labelling of said tupperware so a friend could more easily pick up take-out for the tupperware owner who was post-op. Stacking and falling. Giving and receiving. Loving and caring. Pop. Hiss. Lock.