Sunday, September 15, 2013

Marriage Tester #736: Saturday at IKEA

We love to do what I think of as "marriage testers." You know, things that may cause you to become so frustrated with each other that you question the very vows you took while plotting the other's death. Like picking out a car together when you are 11 months pregnant, or moving with a six month old, or repainting the outside of the house ourselves, or reorganizing the linen closet together. Still not divorced and no one is dead, so I guess we will just keep doing these things 'til someone cracks. We completed our latest marriage tester yesterday--IKEA on a Saturday. As did 1,562,987 other people. 

Have you been to IKEA? HAVE YOU? It is awesome. And insane. And awesomely insane. Especially on a Saturday. So many good deals. So many people. So much panicked buying in the air. I love it. Hubs though, Hubs finds it stressful. Throw in the Honey Badger, and it is a trip down the rabbit hole. The good news is this trip we had a unifying mission. Keeping the child from killing IKEA. I feel it really brought us together and kept us from focusing on our disagreements.  Instead of fighting about which toy bin was better and if we wanted the square or the rectangle Lack coffee table, we were all, "I will hold her in time out while you go grab the pillows to replace the ones the dog peed on." Go Team.

Every third person at IKEA has a child with them under age 5. Why is this important? Because it raises the decibel level by 7000%. Also, when your kid is screaming, it doesn't phase people. They get it. Kids lose their mind in there. It actually pleased me to hear other people's kids sobbing. It made me feel like I wasn't alone in the fight for sanity.

Every fourth person in IKEA is a pregnant woman. Not just a little pregnant. Very pregnant. And they are all followed by husbands pushing carts filled with throw pillows and vases and frames and spice racks with looks of paralyzing fear on their faces. Because they know if they ask why they are looking at shoe organizers instead of crib sheets they may get nut punched. Something about being pregnant obviously makes one panic about the disarray of their home. IKEA is making nesting a gazillion dollar business. They lure us there with cribs and highchairs and we leave with $500 worth of house flair. And a vague idea of what we want in the nursery. And plans in place to come back in two weeks to buy that stuff. Well played, IKEA.

When you take a 3 year old to IKEA they are going to lose their schmidt. Probably sooner rather than later. Here is the scenario that leads to the breakdown: arrive, pull them out of the car and rouse them up from their 35 min power nap, fill them with french fries and chocolate milk. Then turn them loose on a playground of brightly colored furniture and things to touch. LadyB is in heaven at IKEA. Because she is a "big girl" she doesn't want to ride in the cart. Translation--she needs to climb on every couch, play on every fake laptop, and turn off every lamp. (Side note---there are a ton of lamps at IKEA.) At one point I turned around in the bedroom area to find she had wiggled between a nice young couple looking at a bed and climbed up under the covers. While they were inspecting the duvet. I caught the girl giving the guy the look that said, "our kids will never be this out of control." I wanted to slap her and scream, "They will. Maybe even worse. They may pee in the IKEA bed. And then you will understand why I look so tired." I literally drug Her Highness out of that bed, all 33 lbs of dead weight, because she was "asleep" while those two fools stared, wondering where they kept the box of 7000 IKEA condoms for $3. I tried to trick her into the cart with Skittles. She actually said, "no thank you Mother. I am going to walk." Then after 72 warnings to stop running/screaming/tripping old people who were walking against the arrows because they are lost and we don't do guided shopping in 'Merica, I shoved her in the cart while she sobbed and screamed. And then gave her the Skittles if she promised to just be quiet. That worked until the Skittles ran out. Then it was back to begging to be released from cart prison. Loudly on repeat. 

By the time we were finished I was afraid I was going to go into stress induced preterm labor. Then we had to stand in line for almost 30 minutes. The couple in front of us bought $2200 worth of stuff. (I lurked to see the total because they had three carts worth). At one point sister put 6 packs of 36 tea lights on the conveyor belt. I can't even begin to imagine what one does with 126 multicolored candles. But IKEA does that to a person. You get in there and you totally redecorate your house in 2 hours. Of course you have to have 126 candles.

The best part is we are going back next month to actually purchase the baby stuff we just looked at yesterday. We may even go back twice. I may just plan to give birth there, right in between the toilet brushes and the wicker rocking chairs with no legs that everyone wants and sits in, but no one actually buys. Or by the Swedish meatballs and soft serve, just in case I get hungry. I would leave with a baby in a moses basket made from a 59 cent blue tarp bag and a new duvet cover and three chocolate bars for a dollar. Now that would be an amazeballs marriage test. 


Type A spouses are super annoying until it
is time to pack the car.
Then they are money.


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