If there’s one thing sure to whip my crazies up into a frenzy, it’s the plop of an Ikea catalogue coming through the letterbox.
Last Saturday was one such day.
Within minutes of the postman ramming the latest glossy Ikea catalogue through the post box I was awoken from my slumber, by shrieks of , “Mama, Mama can we go to Ikea for meatballs?” .
Now bearing in mind I was slightly hungover (aren’t that what Saturday mornings are all about?) and it was about 4am (ok slight exaggeration, but shit it was early), the thought of meatballs, never mind the horrors of shopping on a Saturday with 3 kids was, quite frankly, more than I could stomach.
I groaned, semi-heaved, rolled over and begged Scandiman to make me breakfast.
Three cups of coffee and 2 paracetamols later (me not them, they had popcorn and sweets) we were all up, dressed and heading off to Ikea with the bonhomie that only the truly stupid and slightly hungover seem to posses.
We set off, as usual with strict warnings regarding running off, hiding in cupboards, screaming, saying bad words and stealing sweets at the pick & mix at the end.
Did they listen… did they f*%k.
And as always, I captured each excruciating moment on film, coz I’m sick like that see… you might remember Supermarket Carnage Part 1, well here comes part 2, albeit in a slightly cooler shop.
In their defence, it started well enough and damn they looked cute as they admired the artwork as we entered Ikea. But the little hellcats were just bloody luring me into a false sense of security!
As within minutes of entering the store Ozzy decides to ride the escalator on his stomach.
I’m afraid the photo’s a little blurred here as a) he was ascending at speed and b) I was running and screaming.
We de-railied Ozzy and then we all entered the store calmly and happily… till we realised we had a runner!
After much frantic shouting and alerting of security (sooooooo embarrassing, I coulda’ wept!) we found him… on his way to McDonalds.
It wasn’t all bad, I do have moments when I can control my kids, the threat of zero hotdogs and a swift bypass of the pic and mix resulted in this adorable little family snap.
Of course it wasn’t to last and a few moments later I was frantically searching for Ozzy… I found him in a broken cupboard, as you do.
My pleas of “Get out Oskar I am starting to loose it son!” were, of course, duly ignored.
So to help matters and my nerves along, Axel got in too, FFS!!!!!
(might I just add dear reader, that by this time by focus had shifted somewhat from thoughts of flat-pack furniture to being flat-out drunk at home, gripping a large glass of Sauvignon Blanc).
Then we queued in the cafeteria, quietly and without incident or withering glances from the other shoppers… NOT!
Next came our favourite part of Ikea (I’m being as sarcastic as hell here, just in case youre wondering) the children’s department. :/
Where we lost Axel again. And then found him hugging a terrifying, savage beast that strikes fear into all that cross it’s path.
Rather apt now I think about it…
On the plus side I only lost Victoria once and when I found her she looked so beautiful, arranging her wedding bouquet (her words), that rather than tell her off I swooned. And now I’m actually quite tempted to call up the producers of ‘My Big Fat Gypsy Wedding’ and offer her up.
We’ve always wanted a caravan down West Wales see.
Finally we made our way out of Ikea, laden with tea lights, plastic plants, storage options and stolen sweets.
We hopped into the car and began to drive off, till we realised that Ozzy was hanging out of the feckin window!?¿?!!! WTF!
And that was the end of that little delightful debacle.
Although, as we all know, every good story has to have a happy ending…
Which, my lovelies, in this case, came in the form of the new gorgeous rosy red rhubarb cordial that I snuffled into my shopping bag in Ikea.
I went home, poured myself a big kick-ass glass of vodka, chucked in a splosh of cordial and threw the lot down my frantic neck.
Thank you and goodnight.