Oh, IKEA, how you tease me, with your cheap prices and your unusual style!
You helped furnish Bryon's apartment when he was temporarily transferred to Austin. We stocked the whole place for under $300. But, the "metal" you used to make the pots, pans, utensils, and silverware was so flimsy that it bent with the first use.
Your beautiful blue mega-store is like a beacon to all that pass by. That place you have up in Frisco, Texas is bigger than the whole town I grew up in. Unfortunately, everyone within a 180-mile radius gets sucked into your vortex, causing the population in the store to swell to double that of my hometown. This small town girl can't handle that many people in one place.
|Step into the light|
|(Unless it is the ubiquitous POANG chair that exists in 78.4% of homes, mine included)|
And, so, it comes to this. My cousin Wendy had these perfect step stools:
And, of course, when I found out they were from you, IKEA, I just knew my chances of finding another one were slim to none. I was willing to take that chance just to drop my now-potty-trained kid off in your "Smaland" to play while my other munchkin and I searched for the cool stools.
Yet again, our love/hate relationship reared its ugly head. Shelby was two tiny, itty-bitty-but-oh-so-huge inches too short to ever see the inside of "Smaland", so I was stuck hauling both kids around your ginormous store.
Two hours later, you managed to sell me two stools (score one for me!), eight yards of fabric, and four different Swedish toys that my kids will play with for all of 12 hours before they fall apart. You also managed to feed all three of us for only $11 (including a "princess" dessert) and let us use your restroom FOUR times.
So, IKEA, with today's successful shopping adventure, our relationship will go on. In the future, try to make just a little more commitment to your manufacturing so that your merchandise will last a little longer than it takes to write a blog post!