“…and I get my ya-ya’s at IKEA” -Chandler Bing

Have you ever driven to an IKEA simply to dine in the wonderfully-decorated cafeteria? Yeah…me neither…BUT if I HAD, it was only because this food utopia was just 15 min out of the way of where we were going anyway. And the meatballs are really THAT good. And, I don’t get the appeal of Chick-fil-A. So hey – I won’t judge your conservative (any-day-but-Sunday) chicken sandwich smothered in that weird orange sauce, and you don’t judge me my IKEA meals!…

IKEA is a magical land where you can want everything and afford almost all of it. And the best news is – it may not fit into the trunk of your car, but it will certainly all fit into your blue, magic bag. AND you’ll get your workout in trying to navigate your kickass cargo cart around corners to properly follow the arrows on the floor in the warehouse. Where you will also realize that yes, your home does need faux AND real house plants and that the Swedish meatballs you enjoyed several hours ago will no longer suffice, but that’s ok because the cheapest, most delicious soft serve is just on the other side of this confusingly long checkout line…

Does anything feel more hopeful and exciting than pulling off the highway to be greeted by the majesty of the billowing red, yellow and blue flags? Who doesn’t quietly pledge allegiance to the IKEA flag as you search for parking in the epically sprawling lot?…

Once I read an article about a man who was arrested for putting down fake arrow decals on the floor of IKEA. Which is one of my favorite crimes I’ve ever heard of…

If you’ve never gotten lost in the labyrinth of IKEA and realized you were late to pick up your kid, then you have never really suffered…

Mary Poppins-esque bag: $.99 and you have luggage to last a lifetime.

Published by imworriedmytherapisthatesme

I'm a history-PhD-turned-stay-at-home-mom of three. When I'm not microwaving Trader Joe's meals for my kids, breaking up fights and wiping butts, I like to paint and write. To cope with the endless hours I'm spending with my son doing virtual school, I've abandoned my gouache paints for the more portable, less messy tried but true, paper and ink. While he learns to read to 20 floating heads on his screen, I sit on a tiny chair, at a tiny table pretending to be a productive adult.

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