Saturday we went to IKEA. I felt like I was walking into the lion’s den.
When we began redoing my 10 yr old son’s bedroom (we live in a big old house that we are restoring for those who don’t know) I brought him to IKEA one day and he decided he really loved the loft beds. I had told him that when the room was done we would head back there and buy him one along with a desk, a light, a rug and a dutch oven. Right now he sleeps on a mattress on floor, and while I try to convince him that this is really cool and tell him that in fact when I was his age I begged to be able to put my mattress on floor, he doesn’t really buy it.
Lo, so many months have passed as we slowly worked on the infamous room. Stripping wall paper, replastering damaged walls, painting, repainting, reglazing the windows, rebuilding the closets, refinishing the hardwood floor… let’s just say that it was a long, very long drawn out process. But now, it is finally *almost* finished. We need to hang the closet doors, after I paint them, and put up the crown molding.
We tried to get down to IKEA the week before New Years when my husband had the week mostly off so we wouldn’t have to go on a weekend when it would be all crowded, but were unsuccessful. I think it snowed that week? Anyway, Saturday my husband suggested that we go and finally get the poor deprived and neglected child a bed.
And that is why on Saturday afternoon I found myself at IKEA caressing that dutch oven in a way that is probably illegal in several southern states.
My husband actually said I was no fun in IKEA because I questioned every purchase he wanted to make.
In the end we didn’t even end up buying the loft bed because on closer inspection it was a piece of flimsy crap. And as much as I am all about not spending money unnecessarily I also do not believe in spending money on things that are not going to last.
We bought pine bunkbeds from an unfinished furniture store many years ago. They didn’t last. I ended up pitching them out the window in pieces one day and then burning them in our fire pit. That was nothing but a waste of money and I vowed as I roasted my marshmallows over it that I wouldn’t do it again.
In the end that day we left IKEA with an area rug for his bedroom, which we need to protect the newly refinished floors lest I be forced to kill him when he drags his desk chair across the room, and a plastic mixing bowl. The plastic mixing bowl was to replace one that broke about six months ago. One that I duct taped back together and have continued using because it was the perfect size for all my mixing needs.
Rest assured, people, I am not going into stores just to torture myself.