Sunday, December 30, 2007

Ikea'll You

Got suckered into a trip to Ikea on Friday. One of those things that should ring warning bells; but like those first few months caring for a newborn the human brain wipes out all the bad stuff and leaves only warm, tender memories, thus ensuring the survival of the species...and Ikea.

Apparently we needed a cupboard for The Noodle's toys / knick knacks.

I have a slow burning rage building up with all the plastic crap that is marketed to kids. God knows at what cost it is all produced in its shiny blue, green and red hues. I'd love to initiate some sort of rule that all toys should be functional, educational and made from tin and timber, but who am I to combat the forces of global consumerism?

So as soon as we got to Ikea Knickers inserted the thin end of the wedge and began to wiggle it for more leverage. I am helpless against the wedge. It shifts the sand under my principles, runs rings around my moral stands and uses reason and logic to batter my arguments to a pulp.

Whap 'Yes we'd agreed on the smaller one, but look how much more room is in the larger.'
Wham 'It's only an extra $100.' ($100 - Jesus Christ!)
Wallop 'Well now we clearly need cane baskets to put in it.'
Shazzam 'Kelli has one of these apple de-corers, it's fantastic.' (We've got one too, I call it a knife.)

Then The Noodle had his first major shopping centre meltdown, which was kind of a proud moment and got me out of walking all the way back to the storage section to compare and contrast 37 different combinations of cane and plastic baskets.

So a weeks wages later I was at the exit / loading station with our boxes while Knickers and Noodle fetch the car, then some guy stole my park. I showed remarkable restraint and moved to another, I think his wife saw what he'd done and smiled some sort of apology, I managed a grimace i reply. Finally had the packs on the roof rack and was ready to go when one of my new ratchet straps wouldn't tighten. Took me about ten minutes to fix it with the heat and glare reflecting off the baking hot roof onto my face and Knickers trying to calm and increasingly irate Noodle.

Turns out some of the slats are cracked. I'm pretty sure Knickers thinks I made the straps too tight. I suspect if they weren't pre-broken @ purchase it might have been done when she dropped the pack on my foot. We've agreed to disagree and Ikea have agreed to swap the pack over.

Now I have to go back.


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