Sunday, March 25, 2012

You know what I hate about Ikea?

This is actual rant by the hubby.
Who never rants about anything.
Upon hearing it, I felt like a bomb had been dropped on my marriage;
a terrible secret brought to light, in an outburst of hidden feeling and concealed truths.

I just found out: my husband...
has a love/hate relationship with Ikea.

No no no, hear me out. This is big. We got 90% of our furniture that wasn't handed down by family who didn't want it anymore at Ikea. We walked around Ikea all day the day before Maddie born because I woke up that morning and NEEDED to go to Ikea. (To walk out Maddie? Or get a coffee table? Who knows. The point is, it was magical.) It's our special "let's have a field trip" place. There are Swedish meatballs with lingonberry sauce, damn it!
See? Who could hate such a wondrous place?!

The following rant is paraphrased a bit.  I've been instructed not to say I'm exactly quoting him here.
That said, I swear to God this is what he said:

So you think it's going to be a fun day out, but it never really is. I mean, it's less and less fun every time we go there.
You know what you want and you go there and the showrooms are so nice and clean and organized. Except you know when you get whatever it is home and finally put it together, your room will look like crap and be covered in cardboard. And our house will never be that clean and organized. We're not Swedish.
Then you walk around the whole thing - and that's a lot of walking and it tires you out!
So then you know what you want to buy but you're all hungry and exhausted and the kids get whiny.
"Why don't we just take them to Smalland?"
Because you can only have them in there for an hour, and you need that hour for the downstairs part! Cause the Marketplace and the Warehouse take at least an hour. Cause they're Hell, and that takes a while.
So again you're all hungry and tired and the kids are whiny so you go to the cafeteria and eat. Except the meatballs aren't as good as I ever think they are. Not worth the points. Next time we go there I'm going to get...I don't know. I don't want to eat there. And the crazy tray strollers are nuts. But you eat.
Dear Ikea, please make these in 5 year-old size.

But then you go downstairs and that Marketplace part is crazy. And whatever smaller thing you saw upstairs isn't for sale downstairs, you have to go back up and get it. Of course. 
And you go through to the warehouse part with the Big Ass Fans *note: the fans at our Ikea are actually made by a company called "Big Ass Fans", which is actually quite awesome*. 
Biiiiiig Ass Fan. 

And you have to find the thing you want to buy in the warehouse with the aisle/bin number things. And then they probably don't have have what you wanted! But you have a bunch of other stuff in your cart anyway.
Then you finally get to the checkout and of course they have one real line open and self-serve is a mess. So you stand there forever and your Smalland time might be running out.
THEN you forgot the the blue bags, and end up buying more, of course. Because they're SO useful. Except you have giant stash of them at home and never use them.
Then you get to go buy frozen yogurt. And that's pretty good, but then you've got the kids and your stuff and you don't know how to eat the frozen yogurt with all the kids and your stuff.
So then if you bought something really big you try to go pull the car up to one of the loading spots but there's never any open cause you're always there on a Saturday when all the other idiots who thought Ikea on a Saturday was a good idea came too. So you have to awkwardly back your car into those spots and they have the rule that you can't take the carts past that little porch area...
THEN there's always traffic on the bridge, or 42.
Then you have to unload the car and the kids are cranky cause they probably fell asleep in the car.
THEN you have to put all that stuff together when you get home. With weird tools.
I personally never read instructions anyway.

And you're just exhausted at that point.

AND scene!

Really, we're fine. We won't be going back there anytime soon, but I doubt this will be another Sour Cream Incident.  STILL!
This, my friends, is the sad truth: my mild-mannered husband has secretly harbored resentment towards Ikea, all this time.
And I never knew.
Taking applications for whoever wants to go with me next time.


Anonymous said...

I'll go! I love Ikea! And to Bob I, as his kind, compassionate mother, just say to him, "Wah."

HappyHijabi said...

I found your blog randomly, but this is hilarious-I laughed so hard!!!

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