by Eve Vawter
I always thought that when I was a woman-of-a-certain-age I would finally get organized. I'd live this gorgeously minimalist existence with a place for everything and everything in its place. Considering I currently have at least three junk doors, that just ain't gonna happen.
My house is never dirty, and at first glance it isn't even messy. But open certain drawers in my kitchen and you will discover a whole other story. Here are some of the things in my house missing things that I just haven't gotten around to tossing yet.
Tupperware with missing lids or containers.
I am pretty sure this happens to everyone, but that doesn't make it any less annoying. None of my sets match up, half the lids are warped from the dishwasher, and more than once one of my kids has stolen the bottom of one to make a home for some stupid lost ant they have found. So they take the Tupperware, add tons of grass and pieces of lettuce (and I am sorry, what ant is going to look at a piece of lettuce 100 times its size and think mmmm.. delicious?) and then proceed to poke air holes in the top of the Tupperware lid. FOR AN ANT. Because we all know that single kidnapped ant requires a fuckton of oxygen. I mean, this ant was going along, minding his ant business, probably on the way home to his ant family until one of my kids tore him from his existence so he could live in one of my FOOD STORAGE containers with the only thing to keep him company being a gigantic piece of lettuce. And instead of, you know, setting the ant free, my kids would always keep him until he died or got lost. And then they would put that lid with holes poked into it back in the cupboard with the other food storage containers, until one day I could be putting away leftover lasagne and either be unable to find a lid or resort to using the one with the holes in it. YEAH IT'S BOTH AN ANT DEATH TRAP AND A PLACE FOR YUMMY LEFTOVERS.
Read more: In Defense Of Stuff: Marie Kondo Can Bite Me
Remote control backs.
How does this even happen? Someone replaces the batteries in the remote control, but in their hasty rage to watch a DVR'd episode of Pretty Little Liars they either break a tiny part of plastic off the remote control back OR, even worse, don't even bother putting the back on. And where does it end up? In a drawer. So then I get a remote control with the battery compartment covered in tape and the cover for the battery compartment in the cover-for-battery-compartments cemetery. In this cemetery the remote control backs somehow transform so that they no longer fit any remote control missing a back currently in my home. It makes no sense.
A sock with no friend.
This is the tale as old as time for any woman who stupidly procreated ever. I'm not even gonna talk about this shit.
Pen caps with no pens.
Would you like a pen? Sorry. I cannot help you. I have at least 7,902 pen and marker caps but zero pens or markers. But if there's ever a pen that needs capping, come see me.
The stupid drug thing with no drugs in it.
What even is this shit? What asshole in my house takes the last cold pill or allergy pill or whatever and leaves this either in the box or in the drawer? Joke's on me because I have seen this sitting in my drawer for at least a year now and I just threw it away. Like what was I going to do with it? Take it to Walgreens and demand a refill?
This is not attached to a gallon of milk, mind you. And whenever I try and toss these one of my kids laments but Mommmmm, don't throw that away, the cat loves playing with it. Then why can't the G-damn cat play with one of the hundreds of these the cat has lost under my sofa? These have a job, they are to cover milk, and I should never have one of these in a drawer. Milk cap, you are fired.
A Christmas bulb replacement.
Not attached to any Christmas lights, mind you. Just a replacement bulb sitting in a drawer with its BFF the remote control back waiting to be used one year which will never, ever happen.
Ice cream carton with no ice cream.
Granted, this isn't in a junk drawer, but after you clean your junk drawer and you wanna reward yourself by having some ice cream there won't be any. There will just be an empty carton in your freezer — a carton with one sad freezer-burned scoop left in the bottom of it. Because it's too much work for anyone to toss it and leave a post-it on the refrigerator saying BUY ICE CREAM.
I have tried talking to these people I live with. I have lectured and made them help me toss all these stupid things but eventually they all come back to haunt me. It may take a few months or a year, but then I'm back to empty tape dispensers and a package of Oreos missing all the creamy filling. Just thinking about it gives me a headache, but I'm sure I have an empty bottle of Tylenol around here somewhere. It belongs to the cat.