Ikea and divorce statistics!!!


Why I thought a trip to Ikea on Bank Holiday Monday was a good idea is beyond me?  Actually, in my defence it wasn’t my idea, it was Pippa’s.  I’d promised her a new bed as her room is so small and moving into year 8 means school work needs to be taken even more seriously so she needs space in her room for a desk.  She’d already picked the bed out that she liked and I very much liked the price tag so all we had to do was go in and collect it!  Yeah……..right!!

Anyone who has ever visited their local Ikea knows only too well how much of a fiasco it can turn into.  Well, today was just like that!  The whole experience was not enhanced by the fact that I’m still hobbling on crutches and trust me, it’s a lot further round than you realise!  Kacie, Osborn,(brought along as the heavy lifters!) Pippa and I finally arrived in the bed department and duly noted down the name, aisle and location number.  Job done!  Nah….never that easy!

The Dream

Hunt the bed!

So, the bed was in aisle 33 location1….’Simples!’.  Yes, theoretically, except aisle 33 doesn’t exist?  Aisles 32 – 36 are in a maze around the back of aisle 31.  Ok, nothing wrong with that except every aisle has a f**k off sign 2′ x 2′ giving it’s number except aisle 33.  We went up and down….and up and down.  My foot was, by this time, hurting badly, I was not in the mood for Ikea’s shit signage.  Eventually, after about 10 minutes of searching I found a 2 inch square sticker telling me that I was standing in Aisle 33. By this time Lorie had joined us so the four of them started pulling out the ENORMOUS boxes that weighed a ton each.

I looked at them bleakly wondering how the hell we were going to get them in the car?  On a wing and a prayed I realised.

Car Park Fun!

Eventually we navigated ourselves around the checkouts and the ridiculously long queues and managed to squeeze into a lift.  Once at the car I tried desperately to supervise 4 hyperactive teenagers as to how to put all the seats down etc…so that we had a fighting chance of getting the damn thing in.  20 minutes later with me sitting in the drivers seat having been given orders to sit down and rest my foot and leave it up to them and I was left sitting with the steering wheel squashed into my chest and a ridiculously heavy box that was going to decapitate me if I dared to even touch the brakes on the way home!

The Reality!!!!!!

Everyone’s having as much fun!

Suddenly Kacie, having looked around the car park, remarked at all the other people with their cars doing exactly what we were.  Parents were loading cars and then squishing their children into whatever tiny space was left, boots were being slammed and then opened again whilst pushing items further into the car to gain an extra centimetre.  Seats were being moved back and forth, headrests removed and grannies were having miscellaneous items packed around them as they sat looking terrified at what might come next!

We all burst into hilarious laughter at the antics everywhere around us.  The sweating husbands being instructed by their spatially inept wives and toddlers running amok.  It was a complete comedy unfolding before our very eyes and we were on the cast list!

Just a thought…..maybe Ikea shopping should be included in the National Curriculum?  It might help reduce the divorce statistics?  We all know the horrors don’t end with the car cramming dramas, putting the blasted thing together once you’ve got it home is whole new chapter!

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