DUCK AND COVER!
This was my strategy when opening the cupboard containing our plates, bowls and cups. Among the why-did-we-pick-that-pattern Corelle place settings and the grown-up glasses was a rainbow of plastic drinking devices designed for the post-bottle and pre-breakable glass contingent. You know, the soft-tip sippies that were supposed to be the easiest to transition from the bottle, the hard-tip easy-to-clean ones that never fit in the stroller cup holders, and my personal favorite, the miracle 360 cups that dentists love because they’re most like cups but lose their magic when thrown defiantly from a high chair. I was sick.of.all.of.them.
I am embarrassed to admit how many times I have actually been injured by these topsy-turvy, falling-everywhere sippy cups. Like, give-me-a-minute-I-might-cry injured. This is dumb. I am dumb. There has to be a better way. Here it is:
Put sippy cups in a basket. Or a drawer. Just not a cupboard above eye level. Or they will hit you in the head. #organizinghack
There is no reason the infinitely more unstable sippy cups need to be in the cupboard next to their more mature glass counterparts. They don’t. That is dumb. They will fall over. They will fall out. They will attack you.
If you can’t spare the drawer space, get a basket and throw them all in there. You know where they go, you know where they’ll be, and where they won’t be is smacking you in the face every time you open the cupboard to get out another snack bowl to hold goldfish because Child A picked a different snack but now sees Child B’s choice and wants some of that too and they can’t have goldfish touching their other less-cheese-product-dusted crackers. Because waaaaah.
Snack bowls, by the way, have the decency of staying in a nice stack, so don’t demote them. Let them live up in the cupboard with their equally courteous cousins, the cereal bowls.
But the cups, man. Just bring them down.