Last week I cleaned out the cabinet with all of the plastic storage containers. I had ninety-billion bottoms with no tops. I had ninety-billion tops with no bottoms. And I got rid of them all. Every. Last. One.
And then today I open up the cabinet and there sits a topless container. Taunting me. So I slammed it with a meat tenderizer. I probably should have left it lying about to discourage other topless containers from trying to sneak in here...but I have little kids and can't just leave mangled and bludgeoned plastic lying about.
While I was murdering the container (which was harder than it looks, by the way) - Ellie poked her head out the door, took a quick look, and closed the door. A couple of other kids walked through the kitchen, gave a quick glance, and kept on going. Nobody said, "Oh Mother, why art thou banging a meat-tenderizer-sledge-hammer-thing into the plastic container?" Nobody said a word. Which is an indication of the way things work around here.
I often think that at least one of these five kids is going to grow up to write a book but I'm not sure any of the little blokes are aware that anything is ummmmm....out of the ordinary. Because that is how crazy works. Someday one of them will say, "You mean your mother didn't beat up plastic bowls with a hammer while shouting How The Hell Did You Get In Here You *#$!# Piece of Plastic!!!! ? Hmmmmm......." That could open up a humongous Pandora's Box of Things Our Mother Did that Other Mothers Didn't. So maybe there will be a book, after all.
The meat tenderizer, by the way? I don't use it. Ever. So, of course I have two.
Last week was Tupperware, today is the Big Ass Cooking Utensil Drawer....and next week is the God Forsaken JUNK drawer.
And what the HELL is this? Joel says it is a peanut cooker.
And 3 ice cream scoops. That I am keeping. Because sometimes I dish out that much ice cream.
I would like to tell you how many corkscrews I found but I'm afraid you would draw some sort of conclusion or make some kind of incorrect assumption or inaccurate correlation between the number of corkscrews I own and the amount of wine I consume. And that would be alarming.