The Swedish Furniture

You know how things go at IKEA. You go in, you wander around for way longer than you ever remember being there, you get distracted and you come out with more things than you were planning on. Oops.

It went the same for us. Sure, we first had lunch, but apart from that, it was a typical day at IKEA. Except for the bit where we bought three carts of stuff and got it all home.

At least, I think we're getting it all home. Packing was no problem, but somewhere in the wonderfulness of cheap furniture, we forgot that we live on the second floor. And bookcases and sofas are heavy. Oh, and there's still a sofa planned for a much bigger room sitting in our living room, eating the space of a chair, a bookcase and the new, smaller sofa. My strong, handsome boyfriend and his dad are lugging it all upstairs with a lot of groaning and panting and 'does-this-one-have-numbers-on-it?'s. I am not sure, but I think that at some point, they're going to remove the big couch as well.

Now, my mom told me not to spend much. I know that. But we needed more furniture. And some hooks. And a smaller couch, for God's sake. Okay, maybe the stick-on space invaders and the new pots and pans weren't technically a necessity, but we're sharing the stickers and the temptation of pots and pans that could go into the dishwasher without any risk was too much. Why? We already melted something in the dishwasher. Something of mine, which was dishwasher top-rack safe and ended up in the bottom rack, right above the heating element. A new one will cost me about twelve euros, which means it'll have to wait a few months. Oh, and the pots and pans sort of fit the scale of the apartment better. And can go into an oven. Sortedfood recipes, here I come. :)

So it's all slowly trickling upstairs while I sit here typing and wondering how we could buy more than was on our list, and pay less than the list said it would cost. I'm not complaining, I'm just wondering what on earth we got for free. The proof of payment has disappeared, as far as I can tell. I thought it went into our bag, but it's not there. I'll go downstairs and ask Boyfriend's mom if she has it once I'm sure I won't cause any helping hands to topple over and be crushed under part four of a large EXPEDIT bookcase.

I already cleared the couch and helped put things to the side, so the guys could put the sofa-in-the-making right into their own path (I have been raised not to argue logic with men on IKEA furniture until they've finished with the screwdrivers and cursing) and bring in all the rest. I'm going to see what I can unpack from the bag, maybe load some things into the dishwasher once I'm done writing. Oh, and I have been told I'm allowed to help build a few things. Boyfriend is terrified that I'll hurt myself somehow while figuring if part G goes into slot 7. I'm more confident in myself, but my dad's voice is going through my head telling me 'don't touch', so I'm staying away from the things that can squish me. But a chair should be doable, right?