Tupperware-gate

Last night I made a horrifying discovery, which just goes to show that leaving a man home alone is a dangerous move. While I was away relaxing in the cabin in the woods with the girls last week, Neil took it upon himself to rearrange our kitchen cupboards, with disturbing results.

His foray into home improvement came to light when I innocently went to grab some Tupperware. Now, like most ladies in their early 30s, more than a decade of fending for myself has left me with an impressive collection of plastic containers. I have big ones, small ones, medium-sized ones, square ones, rectangular ones, tall ones and short ones. I have clip-lid containers and washed-out take-away tubs. And of course, I have favourites. I have containers that are perfect for taking sandwiches into work, tubs to store cheese, boxes for leftovers and compartments for freezing soup. It's a system that has taken years to perfect.

So imagine my horror when I went to the cupboard last night and discovered that my life's work in Tupperware had vanished!

"Neil, where's my Tupperware?" I spluttered.

He led me to the utility room and proudly opened the store cupboard. Inside I was mortified to see every single bit of dried food that we owned had been carefully decanted into every single bit of Tupperware that we owned. I was speechless.

Neil's tidy cupboard... and all my Tupperware!

"But.... my Tupperware...." I stuttered.

"Yep," said Neil proudly.

"It's all in there?"

"Yep."

"Every last bit of it?"

"Yep."

"But WHY?"

"It looks neater."

"BUT THAT'S MY LIFE'S WORK IN TUPPERWARE! WHAT AM I GOING TO TAKE MY SANDWICHES TO WORK IN NOW? AND HOW WILL I STORE PASTA SAUCE OR FREEZE SOUP?"

I was becoming emotional. And Neil was finding my reaction more and more entertaining.

After going into a black funk that lasted through an entire episode of 'The Walking Dead' (brilliant TV programme about zombies), Neil graciously offered to take me Tupperware shopping and buy me some new containers to take to work.

"You'll never be able to replace that collection," I told him darkly. "That took years to build up. 

"And where are we going to buy Tupperware - we usually get it from Tesco, but now that's out of bounds, remember?"

"Don't worry," Neil replied. "I have a plan."

Supermarket-free Tupperware heaven

So this morning, true to his word, Neil took me Tupperware shopping and introduced me to a shop that was almost as exciting as Wilkos.

The Range, in Chesterfield, is like a huge warehouse stuffed with practical and random stuff, including the most exciting Tupperware I have EVER seen in my LIFE. 

"Look," said Neil, grabbing a pink plastic lunchbox. "It has compartments."

I marvelled as he proceeded to show me a range of containers with different lids and secret spaces.

"Just imagine," he pointed out. "You could put your sandwiches in this bit, and your fruit in this bit. You could even pop a bit of chocolate in this bit."

And then, like a man who knows he's on the home straight, Neil produced his trump card, a little square container for salad.

"It has separate compartments for the soggy items like tomato, it has a little well for your dressing and it even has a little plastic knife and fork," he demonstrated.

I was awestruck.

So now I've got a lovely new collection of containers and I'm so excited that I'm even looking forward to going back to work after a week off tomorrow - just because I want to take my lunch in one of my new tubs. 

And Neil is strutting round the house like a man who has, quite frankly, played a blinder.

Domestic bliss has been restored. And we didn't need to go anywhere near Tesco.

My snazzy new containers