“We better get something,” my husband grouchily said, as we climbed into the car. “I could be out fishing, so we better not drive all the way there if we are not going to buy something.”
“Of course we are going buy something,” I irritatedly respond. “That is the whole point! You can only purchase so much from Amazon while lying on the couch, you know? After all, we don’t need to give Jeff Bezos all of our money, we can share some love with IKEA as well!”
“Dad, I need a bed and a desk,” my daughter reminded him, as she settled into the backseat. “And anyway, it will be fun. You can get some of those Swedish meatballs for lunch!”
She is always planning ahead, that girl, and she knows how much her father loves to take a food break. In fact, she usually has a planned food stop on most of our outings, just in case of “testy” little emergencies.
And why is it that all of the IKEA’s that we have been to (and there have been three) are so far away? You always have to drive at least an hour to get there. And when you finally do, it feels like you have arrived at an airport. The place is huge!
After parking the car we make our way to the entrance and are greeted by some very unenthusiastic employees, who reach out to hand us an oversized, bright yellow bag. “What are we supposed to do with this?” I sarcastically ask my daughter. Knowing full well we are supposed to fill it with lots of conveniently placed stuff, that the store has strategically placed about.
Do we really need that microwave food cover, I think? How silly, but after seeing it in six different places, I finally plop one into the bright yellow bag. Oh and that iPad holder for the kitchen, that will be so useful to have on the counter when I am cooking, “I’ll take one of those too.” I say, as I dropped it in the bag. I guess IKEA really does know what they are doing after all, I mused.
“Hey, we are supposed to be here for me,” my daughter prods me. “I am the one who needs stuff for my college apartment, remember?”
“Yeah, what are you doing?” Monsieur Pleasant (aka my husband) grumbles. “We are obviously here for Audrey.”
“Well, you did say we better buy something, so I’m buying something, okay?” I teased. “But yeah alright, let’s go find some desks,” I concurred.
But oh, all the cute little room displays! For someone who loves interior design, it was like eye candy! I could just imagine myself in my first apartment … Which was a bad thing because my daughter kept having to drag me along to the next display, as her father became more and more disgruntled and hungry.
“Let’s go have lunch and get some of those Swedish meatballs!” My daughter cleverly announced, spying the cafeteria and sensing that things were about to get ugly if she didn’t get some food into her father ASAP!
And as it turns out, it was a good idea. Because finding the perfect desk and bed was a bit like being in a version of the fairy tale, Goldilocks and the Three Bears! This one is too big, this one is too small, the desk is nice, but the color is all wrong. It’s not my theme.
What theme, I think to myself? “This is just a little fleabag college apartment that we had to spend three hours scrubbing down,” I frustratedly remind her.
“Stop calling it a fleabag!” She adamantly protests, while glaring at me. “I love my new apartment, and besides, I thought you said you were just going to call it flea, because it was cute.”
“Of course, flea’s cute,” I try to say as sweetly and sincerely as possibly. But seriously? It may look better now, but it wasn’t looking so good when the slumlord handed off the keys, I mutter to myself, as we go deeper and deeper into a maze of everything imaginable. All of the accessories and furniture that you could possibly want, or need.
But oh, Ikea! You’ve brilliantly drawn us in and before long, snap, snap, snap, we have smart little iPhone photos of each tag that we need. Okay, we meaning Audrey, because I was still trying to figure out the big yellow bag thing and getting lost in the cute display rooms.
Then off to the warehouse we go! Even Monsieur Pleasant was surprised at how efficient and easy it was to navigate. Though, everything does seem a bit more enhanced after some those Swedish meatballs, right?
And before you know it, we are in the checkout queue. Of course, Ikea has conveniently placed a freezer of those tasty Swedish meatball and tons of cookies and snacks for one last temptation as you wait in line. Or is it because they know you are going to need it once the assembly starts?
“Do you have a college coupon?” The cashier impatiently asks. And before I can even say a word, my efficient little college student has whipped out her phone to show the QR code. Whew! But not so fast… “Where is the second box for the bed? Your missing a box.” The cashier irritatedly informs us, as I desperately look at my husband in a wide-eyed panic.
“I think I’ll take a couple packages of those cookies also,” I nervously reply, as my husband runs to get the missing box and I stare back at the long line forming behind us.
But after an uneventful loading of the car, we pile in for the long ride home. “That wasn’t so bad,” My husband cheerfully said, as he munched on a cookie. “Now all we have to do is put it together. Shouldn’t be too hard”
How hard could it be? Oh, it turns out that is the FUN part… as we are soon to find out. Because if you think Monsieur Pleasant was down for the shopping spree, just wait until you find out how the assembly goes. Let’s just say there were more than a few curse words, a lot of banging and a few redos. But several frustrating and exhausting hours later, we were finished!
And then we both saw it. Propped up in the corner of the room. My husband and I looked at each other in shock and denial, as my daughter sweetly asked, “When are we going to put the desk together?”
“My GOD!” I shrieked to my husband, as Monsieur Pleasant‘s face slowly burned red. “This horror movie is not over! There is a sequel!!”
