A Plague of Tupperware

Do you suspect you may be suffering from a plague of Tupperware? When you open your plastics cupboard, does an avalanche of random containers fall out?  Do you keep lunch meat packaging and margarine tubs, "just in case?"  Do you still have the Tupperware you got for a wedding present from Aunt Tippy in 1979? Are you an empty nester yet still have a cupboard devoted entirely to containers? If you answered yes to two or more of these questions, then you are likely experiencing a plague of Tupperware. 

Don't panic, the Lord is with you. No one has died from this disorder (that we know of) and there are things you can do to extricate yourself before you begin collecting cats and take out containers. The God who led the Israelites from slavery in Egypt can free you from bondage to Tupperware. First, breathe deeply.  Ask the Lord, "Have I perhaps sinned that you have visited this plague upon me?" If not, remember that God only allows such tests to make us stronger. Next gather the containers into one place so that you can see how bad the infestation has become. Keep breathing, God is good. Do you really need two cake takers? Tell the truth. How many teeny tiny containers for salad dressing are enough? Do you still need to keep the cute mustard squirt bottles you bought for the church picnic in 1985? 

Gently remove any and all foreign containers from amongst the ones you know are yours. As you place them in the trash, say these words of release, "Deli meat containers are not keep-worthy." If you feel anxious, these phrases may be helpful, "I can get more containers at the store. They make more containers every day. God is my provider, He will ensure I have ample containers." Take several cleansing breaths.  

Now separate the bottoms from the tops, less like the sheep and goats and more like swim suit separates. Count the bottoms. Make sure you have a top for every, single one.  Refuse to engage in philosophical speculations, like why do I have ten lids for three containers? Where do the missing containers go? Why do I have no life?

Now, keeping your mind firmly anchored in your happy place, remove the tops for which there are no bottoms. Be firm...no waffling or arguing. Tell yourself firmly that you will not find the bottoms later.  For this exercise, the bottoms no longer exist. Put the orphan tops to the side for later donation to Salvation Army. Do the same for the bottoms for which there are no tops. Release any shame that rises up. There is nothing wrong with you, this happens to everyone. God loves you. Imagine the joy a Salvation Army shopper will experience upon finding just the lids she needs. If you don't trust yourself, put them in the trash, perhaps pouring rancid bacon grease over them to prevent a later rescue attempt in a weak moment. It's going to be okay, Aunt Tippy will never know.

After you have put away the now streamlined collection of containers, revel a bit in the new roominess in your cupboard. Reject the thought that now you have room for more containers...this is from the devil. Keep telling yourself that you are just a sinner, saved by grace.  Ask for the Lord to strengthen you, giving you wisdom as well as restraint. Going forward, ask for a hedge of protection to surround you if you come across cute novelty food containers--the ones whose lid only fits the one container. Avoid the plastics aisle at Walmart. 

Remember, in this world you will have tribulation. 

Next I'm tackling the sock drawer.

Smiling, as I cleanse myself of the evil amongst us...