The long, dark night of the tupperware cupboard.......

I didn't sleep at all well last night.

This is unusual for me, as normally I'm comatose from the minute my head hits the pillow till I'm dragged from the arms of Morpheus by either the alarm clock, or Small Dog sitting on my chest staring at me.

Hard.

So insomnia is a bit of a novelty for me.

I persevered, tossing and turning till I eventually gave up the fight at stupid o'clock and decided to get up and gain a head start on the day.  Small Dog blearily lifted her head as I passed her basket, as if to say "What time d'you call THIS then?" and almost immediately resumed her slumbers.

Once downstairs I was at pains not to make any noise, creeping around so as not to disturb PP and Small Dog, still fast asleep.

So, what do you do when you're up unfeasibly early to fill the hour or so before it's acceptable to be operating at a normal volume?

Why, you tidy the Tupperware cupboard of course.  Well duh!

I'm fairly certain that everyone has their own version of our Tupperware cupboard.  It will be piled high with mismatched items, none of which stack properly and the contents will invariably spill out all over the floor every time the door is opened.

I seem to spend an inordinate amount of time picking bits of Tupperware off the kitchen floor.  It's got to the point where neither PP or I will volunteer to put stuff back in there when we're unloading the dishwasher because we know that as soon as the door is opened, containers and lids will clatter out and roll all over the place. 

Of course none of it is actual Tupperware.  The real stuff.   I'm not even sure if it still exists.  But I well remember, as a child, the excitement of helping my mum prepare posh nibbles (cubes of cheese and pineapple on cocktail sticks, alternated with teeny, tiny sausages, also on sticks.  All stuck into half a melon.... the height of sophistication).  Then to await the arrival of the Tupperware party organiser, and a selection of friends and family who had all been dragooned into attending.

For younger readers, who are probably thinking "What the f**k is Tupperware?" here's a tempting snippet of what you've been missing.....





So entranced were 1960's women (and by extension, their young daughters) by the undeniable practical lure of Tupperware that entire kitchens were full of the stuff.  It's a testament to the fact I'm now in recovery that I only have one small cupboard filled to bursting with its generic offspring.

I've been threatening to tidy it for some weeks now, but just couldn't face what I knew would be a thankless task.  Instead I would quickly jam things in, holding the door open just far enough to stop the entire tottering edifice inside from escaping.

But this morning, to fill my bonus hour in the gloom, I rolled up my sleeves and set about it.

As you can see, it's not a very big cupboard, but it was crammed FULL of plastic jugs, dishes, lids and containers in every conceivable shape and size.

Taking a deep breath I quietly pulled it all out onto the floor and began sorting through....

This is what was left on the floor AFTER I'd filled all the space on the worktop.  However, I'd started and had no alternative but to carry on, so I persevered and soon fell into a gentle, faintly soporific rhythm, reuniting long lost lids with bases, matching up sets in descending order of size, ruthlessly disposing of orphans, containers with broken lids, those morphed out of shape by the dishwasher, random ice cream tubs, and the leaning tower of takeaway containers (yes they ARE useful but any more than 6 is just madness).

The reprieved items were then neatly stacked back in the cupboard, with masses of space to spare.

I think I might be coming down with OCD.  Let's hope I sleep tonight or there's no telling WHERE this might end......