Here's the Scoop: Oct. 28, 2009

Keep a lid on it
When I returned home from the transfer station the other day, I lamented the fact that “We finally have plenty of garbage cans…but far fewer lids than cans.” Aside from leaving the cans outside during really breezy weather, I’m not sure how this happens. And, because our cans are kept inside, well, it’s not all that windy in the basement.
Before I could launch into my own dramatic explanation of what leads to the disappearance of all the garbage can covers, my wife saved me the trouble.
“They’re probably in the same place that all the lids to the plastic food containers end up,” she offered politely.
Ouch.
I could have accepted this theory, except for the fact that I have no idea where those lids actually go when they get tired of trapping in the freshness of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.
And it’s not for lack of trying. Several times I have staked out a position near the “plastics drawer” in hopes of following these lids when they go out for a “nightcap” or wherever it is they vanish to…but nothing. I end up dozing off, only to awake to find a drawer full of lid-less containers.
Sure, there are a few skeptics who place some of the blame for these missing lids directly upon my shoulders. “Well, you use them every day for your lunch. And, when you come home, the lids are missing,” is how the logic flows.
I have broad shoulders. I can take the blame. But I don’t have to like it.

It can’t just be me
Plus, there’s no way I could be responsible for all these missing lids. It should be noted here that because of the high number of lost lids, we have to keep buying more complete sets. The end result is that we have far more containers than lids. This is odd, since quite a few containers seem to disappear as well. You’d think that the law of probability would leave us with the same amount of each — and no problem. Wrong.
The lids, because of their thin profile, seem to disappear at roughly a two-to-one rate faster than the containers. And, you know what that means for me: stale peanut butter sandwiches for lunch.
I will admit that I have started paying more attention to what happens to the containers after I eat. My research has determined that containers, despite being whipped up from a nasty combination of chemicals, have some very human traits. It seems that they often separate and then divorce completely. When there are small containers involved, the split gets more difficult. And, no offense to anyone, but I’m sure that attorneys eventually get involved.
My container problem is magnified by the fact that I generally haul three or four items for lunch each day. That’s a lot of containers to keep tabs on, you know. Or to not keep tabs on, as the case may be.
I would really like to get to the bottom (or the top) of the missing lid issue. But if I solve this problem, I’m sure it’s only a matter of time before I’m sitting next to the dryer late at night, watching where the stray socks walk away to…