Ikea

If marriage was legal to it – I’d do it.

I love that joint and I am NOT alone.

It makes me want to transplant all of those rooms, exactly as they, into my house. And not pay.

Sadly though, each time we go, we walk out with nothing we need and everything we don’t. Like 6 suctioned dish brushes or a $3.99 glass salad bowl.

Well Ok I do need both those things, but it’s not what we went for. Today we started our trip earlyish.
First we had to pick up the 10yo up from a sleepover, from which included a school disco the night before. Apparently all went well. No bitch fights, no smackdowns. I asked her if her “crush” Ben was there. Her answer? It was too dark, couldn’t tell. She better sharpen those skillz before her nightclubbing years.

Her friends mum and dad Robyn and Steve, told me of their Ikea tale. Yes, they, like all of us, have a tale. I particularly however, like theirs. One Saturday, they got their two girls especially babysat from 8am. They then did the 45 minute drive to Ikea and had breakfast in the cafe. If you’ve never been to Ikea, then don’t talk to me. I’m kidding. If you’ve never been, then you’ve never seen the massive cafe they have selling food ALL DAY. For fuck all. Seriously, it’s probably cheaper to feed the family there than feed them at home for a week. The food is a bit on the bizarre side – prawn and egg sandwich anyone? Or some Hällakaka? Maybe some oinshka boinshka? (ok I made the last one up) but the menu has a distinct Swedish meatball feeling to it.

Anyway, Robyn and her husband Steve, then went and shopped the first level. At leisure. I know at this point if you have no kids, the previous sentence will mean nothing. Because you can do whatever you want, whenever you want, completely at you leisure. Oh how I fondly remember those days.

So back to their Ikea tale, they got to explore a mock room, sit on the couch, imagine it being their own TV room without a 2 year old bolting for the unplumbed toilet to pee in the bowl. They looked, they, *gasp*, discussed ideas UNINTERRUPTED and they made plans for their purchases.
They then went and had lunch and the Ikea cafe. Probably kransky and mash or something like that. Next on the agenda, the second level. Which took them up to just on dinner time and the return to their home and children. So this wasn’t a trip to Melbourne to see Acca Dacca or an all day Winery Tour sans children, which I imagine most would constitute a fabulous outing but to me, it sounded like bliss.

Today though did not mirror this.

Jack, our ever loving (read hurricane on a stick) 2 year old decided today was the day he would like to be a skeleton. So dressed like that, he basically addressed every single person we went past with a “Hello lady/man” Cute huh? Until they don’t answer him back and he would shout at the top of his lungs, “howrible laby said NUFFING to me" Growled loudly and did what can only be described a slightly mental stomping dance.

Between that and him and his elder brother thinking the flat pack trolley was a rally car whilst dodging the 80 thousand other (un)happy punters there, we didn’t stay all that long.

Specifically today we were there to check out and preferably buy a vanity unit and basin for the new bathroom. We walked out with a big arse cubed bookshelf and 3 suction dish brushes. Oh and two shark puppets.

Sadly, my lovely husband got, oh 10 minutes in until he started competing in the Ikea Logan half marathon. “Let’s just keep moving” and “Nah, we don’t need any of that shit” were often muttered whilst we sprinted through the arrowed aisles barely looking at ANYTHING. Sure, when we lost the 2yo only to find him spinning in a covered pod chair, I myself agreed it was time to go.

The thing is, the place is awesome. It’s often way more expensive than what you initially think because if you need one part, you often need another and another. But the ideas you start to conjure and the dreams of a life of total order it makes you believe in, makes it worth the mini nervous breakdown it often induces.

That and the 50 cent ice-cream cones.