The Curse of the Diabolical Tupperware

 As Logged By:

 Agent Chase

 

Mommy loves being neat and tidy

Especially when getting a visit from Heidi.

Each lid is in its place.

Every container with its own space.

 

What kind of baby would I be

If I didn't have a diabolical spree?

Hide one here, hide one there.

Mommy's going to search everywhere!

 

Mommy runs from the living room to the kitchen, hurriedly tidying.  

 

"What time is it?"  She wails from the bathroom, where she's perfecting the downward folded arrow on the toilet paper.

 

"You've still got half an hour," Daddy groans.  "Please relax.  I thought you said that Heidi was your friend."

 

"She may be my friend, but that doesn't stop her from peering all over the house and commenting on everything she sees that's not up to her standards.  Ugh!  She never fails to find something wrong.  Well," Mommy lets out an insanely diabolical laugh.  "Not this time!" 

 

A pillow on the sofa is straightened.  Those candles on the side table are realigned.  The cups in the kitchen are set in perfect rows.  

 

Wait, what's this?!?!?!?!? 

 

My toy box is rearranged!!!!!!!!!

 

Where's my squishy with the hidden toot bombs?  Where's my giraffe with the stinky slime stuffed in its pocket?  

 

This cannot be! 

 

As Mommy continues to clean with insanity, I tiptoe a crawl over to a kitchen drawer.  Specifically, the one where the plastic storage containers are housed.

 

This mastermind has a diabolical plan forming.  One of hide and find. 

 

When Mommy isn't looking, I pull the drawer door open and take a peek inside.  Such perfection.  Such neatness.  Each matching box is stacked together with their matching lids resting underneath.

 

Hmm...

 

How about this lid go here and that container go there.  

 

Ooh, this one should definitely go in hiding.  How about with the roasting pans?

 

Another one needs to disappear, but not too many.  Just enough that the remaining plastic containers and lids will never match. 

 

Ding Dong!

 

Mommy stops cold in her tracks.  Her face tenses into a hamster's about to toot and her eyes bug like Gobbles after he has.   

 

"She's here," she hisses and looks around like she doesn't know what to do.  

 

"Do you want me to get the door?"  Daddy offers, hoping for some sanity to return.

 

"No!"  Mommy almost squeals.  She manages to keep her voice down at a hiss and says, "If you get it, she'll think I'm rushing to finish fixing something."

 

Daddy blinks and walks away.  His head tilting as if wondering where his cleverly brilliant, sane wife went.

 

Mommy pats her hair and flashes a grin.  "How do I look," she asks, and whirls away before I can respond.  She throws open the door and holds out her arms.  "Heidi!"

 

This apparent Heidi throws her arms up to and, while I assume they will hug, they only pose before dropping their arms.  No hug ever intended.

 

Well, that's interesting.

 

In waltzes this Heidi and I instantly understand.  

 

Her pointed nose veers, her beady eyes peer.  "I love what you've done with the place," she says almost in a trance.  All the while she seems to be looking for something unknown.

 

"Thank you," Mommy widens an already overly stretched smile.  "And how are you?"

 

"I'm..."  The beady eyes flash, the falsetto smile smirks.  "What's this?  A plastic food container... in with the cookbooks?  I'm shocked."

 

Mommy's smile twitches.  That twitch growing down from her head and all the way to her toes.  "I don't..."  Suddenly she swivels her head.  She doesn't say a word, she doesn't have to.  All Mommy does is stare.

 

Stare at me!

 

Yes, yes.  I did move that.  Quite diabolical, no? 

 

Don't worry, Mommy.  I won't let this Heidi talk to you like that.

 

She'll be getting a surprise, too.

 

 

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