Container crisis

Hot on the heels of the missing sock is the missing lid. It is some weeks now that I have been wearing odd socks, completely unable to track down the offenders that have gone AWOL. You might think that it is simply a matter of buying a few new pairs, but somehow socks have that inbuilt 100th monkey gene that enables them to realise that they can also make an escape from an unwanted twin, and it wouldn't be long before I'd be down to odd socks again.
The lid of the container is another story. Either the container is there or the lid. One can understand a lid slipping unnoticed into the trash, along with the odd piece of cutlery, but a container? I blame myself, really, for treating the family (all long out of school) to snacks and lunches when they are out on the road. They should be left to forage for themselves, as none of that would come in an expensive container with clip-on lid. But He Who Can Fix Anything is the main culprit here. Carefully sliced and diced fruit, pieces of cake, the odd muffin and even leftover chicken should rather be kept at home and consumed by me, as he has no regard for the value of the container and seems to have no interest in locating same. He now gets a banana for the road, as it comes with its own packaging. Of course, he does forage for himself at the likes of KFC or MacDonald's, and the consequences of these ill-advised choices will be for him to bear. It would be better to have a pub lunch - even the beer has more nutrients. I suppose I should just stop feeding them.
Alternatively, I could stick a piece of fabric plaster on each container and write their names and phone numbers on them, like we did for our kids at school. I have no doubt they would never let them out of their sight rather than be embarrassed like that. In the meantime, there is not a container left in the cupboard, so snacks are out of the question for now.