Ikea. That Is All.

Ikea BluesThe Teenager needed a desk, so we bit the bullet and drove to the big blue box on Sunday.

‘Mum, why is Ikea, like, all yellow and blue?’

(weeps into steering wheel) ‘Er, Swedish flag?’

We parked up alongside thousands of others and joined the masses who were swarming through the doors. Only the cafe was open so we followed the same masses to the restaurant.

One rubbery-looking bargain breakfast (The Teenager) and a grotty coffee (me) later, we got in line to follow the infuriating, snaking queue past everything we didn’t want until we got to the desks. Ikea appears to be a destination of choice for wandering tribes of families clutching bags of tea lights and pushing empty ankle-snapping trollies, smugly superior in the knowledge that they watch Scandi-dramas on BBC4 every weekend with a few bottles of Swedish beer.

‘Oh, decisions, decisions! Should we go for the (very bad Swedish accent) Glivarp or the Norden table? But, oh, the Melltorp is divine….darling, did you pick up the tea lights?’

Anyway, desk. Sorted. Scribble down where to pick it up. Swivel chair? Check. Onto the pleasantly-named Market Hall where I whisked The Teenager swiftly through to the bay where we attempted to lift a couple of one-tonne boxes onto a wonky trolley.

Joined the long queue, where The Teenager decided to abandon me and buy an ice cream (‘had to, only 25p’). Pay, pick up a couple of catalogues (hard currency among my friends) and join the masses at the supersized lifts. Car, struggle, swearing. Home.

Then comes the fun bit. Let’s just say, who knew a swivel chair could be broken down in to 150 different components? Who knew I would break down, allen key in sweaty hand, wishing I had bought another packet of mini Daim bars to soften the blow?

Chucked the cat out of the discarded boxes. Cried a little bit more. Chucked the allen key against the wall. Finally, desk assembled (drawer’s a tad loose but don’t tell The Teenager, it’s dark in his bedroom, he won’t notice).

End result – one Happy Teenager (shock). One shell-shocked parent. I was reminded of a van I saw on the motorway last year. Their slogan was ‘Why DIY?’ Why indeed….

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10 thoughts on “Ikea. That Is All.

  1. Suzy says:

    Oh ikea! Oh NO ikea! I hate the place. Went to the Leeds one as my son started university in 2012 to get ‘essentials’. It was hot. I was off-balance, but no stick. I had a list! So why did my family insist on meandering around with the trolley leaving me, plus list, lurching from not-so-stable bits of furniture to baskets full of stuff whilst they tried to find what they were sure might have been on the list or would have been in they’d been in charge. When we finally met up they’d picked up one glass, one plate, two pillows and a corkscrew. I was an oasis of calm as I screamed ….

    • stumbling in flats says:

      It truly is the Temple of Evil! I mean, I like some of their stuff, but blimey, the experience is awful.
      I was swaying all over the place and I hate the way they almost force you to go past absolutely everything before you get to what you really want. Meh. Sunday is definitely not the best day to go, but would have been too tired to go after school, even if The Teenager did say I could kill two birds with one stone and he could have had meatballs for tea….

  2. They are equally horrifying here.

    The last item I assembled was a gigantic and *extremely* attractive CAT TREE. It now graces our TV room. Naturally, the cats ignore it 99 percent of the time. Hope The Teenager uses his desk and thinks of you fondly while he toils away at homework!

  3. Kerri says:

    Would you hate me if I said I love the place? Been almost 30 years since I’ve been inside one, but remember it with excitement – although I was completely able-bodied at the time!

    • stumbling in flats says:

      In all honesty, it’s a fab place! Just hate the way it tells you what to do…
      p.s. but the tea lights are good!

  4. ikea is evil :p feel like a rat in a maze, but thats the point :p

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