You pick your battles in this union called matrimony.
I'd say Better Half and I are ready to wage war over the cupboard that's home to all of our containers and lids.
Not cottage cheese or yogurt containers. Not recycled butter bowls. Honest to goodness containers.
I'm convinced I have the right system in place.
Better Half isn't.
I understand it.
He says I don't get it.
Yes, I do, thank you.
Here's the deal.
We have lots of containers. Big ones. Little ones. Square ones. Oval ones. Rectangular ones. Oblong ones. Deep ones. Shallow ones.
And they all have lids - lids that are the same shape as the containers. Hello.
These are all containers with important roles to fulfill in the life of the Kiaski post-dinner food supply, which is why we have so many, I suppose.
We put leftovers in the containers so we can stash the containers in the refrigerator so we can forget about the containers until it's garbage day.
This cupboard that is the source of much marital discord has space for all these containers of varying shapes and sizes, provided they are stacked according to shape.
This means round ones go together inside each other, square ones go together that way, oval ones go together, too.
You get the big fit-them-into-each-other picture here, right?
The lids all go in this shoebox in the cupboard so when you get a container, you get a lid.
A round lid for the round bowl.
A square lid for the square bowl.
An oblong lid for an oblong bowl.
Is this a pattern here?
It's not really the stuff of rocket science.
In a perfect lid-and-bowl world, when you open this cupboard it's an orderly display, a harmonious existence of Rubbermaid and Ziploc and Glad, oh my.
Quite lovely. Very peaceful.
Unless Better Half has been in there again, promoting his system, which is put all the lids on all the containers and try to make room for all of them this way and that.
Now that would be fine if this cupboard had the height of a New York skyscraper and everything could fit at all angles with room to spare.
But it's not, and it doesn't.
When I open this cupboard after he's wielded his interpretation of lid-and-bowl magic, I wonder if this is the day we'll do battle.
It is very tempting.
Or then again maybe not.
In the grand scheme of things, with my Better Half so wonderful in so many ways, I live with it.
I "contain" myself. And put a "lid" on my comments.
Sunday columns excluded.
(Kiaski, a resident of Steubenville, is a staff columnist for the Herald-Star and The Weirton Daily Times and community editor for the Herald-Star. She can be contacted at firstname.lastname@example.org.)