The Tupperware Affair
Ok, so this story is about Rubbermaid, not tupperware, but to a guy it's all the same. I don't consider myself traditional when it comes to keeping house. I don't think a woman should solely bear this responsibility. It's not a question of traditional gender roles for me, but more one of everyone should pitch in to help where needed.
That being said, before Mary and I got married, she lived in an apartment with no dishwasher. As we had agreed ahead of time, most often when she made dinner, I would do the dishes. I have no problem doing dishes. Tupperware, which I have inaccurately generalized as any sealable plastic container, irritated me quite a bit. There always seems to be all different types and sizes. Most of the lids didn't go together, they didn't dry easily, and worst of all, different types didn't stack very well.
So, when we registered, I tried to not even think about the whole tupperware situation. It wasn't until we unpacked our new plastic containers and I started loading and unloading them from the dishwasher that I start to truly started to appreciate it. The set that my wonderful bride bought all goes together, stacks ingeniously together, is easy to store, is easy to wash...I could go on and on.
I feel as if I have grown as a person. I've come to appreciate a kitchen item that previously was a source of grief and frustration. As long as Mary doesn't make me start using our old tupperware again, all is right in the plastic container story of our lives.