Friday, September 3, 2010

Woonwarenhuis

TPH calls it "Spawn of the Devil", and for many it may bring to mind Ed Norton's OCD character in Fight Club, but you know you all have a soft spot for IKEA, necessary caps or not.


We love it, we hate it, we despise it, we crave it. And we always, always go back for more.


For those of you who have never been, you are missing out. Really. It's one of those experiences that a person must complete once in order to say that they have lived life to it's fullest. Furniture store? Nope. Housewares? Gigantic understatement. Imagine 2 football fields worth of furniture, housewares, restaurants, kids' playing areas. It's not a store, IKEA is an experience


It has earned it's nickname in Casa "W" as "Spawn of the Devil", during one particularly draining trip there, when we were ready to get out of there, and fast. That's when we discovered the engineering/architectural design genius of IKEA, wherein you CANNOT and WILL NOT exit, until you have seen every single Woonkamer, Keuken, or Farfenshnizelboigenheim. You are forced to go through isle after isle of cheery (yet almost creepy in their perfection) displays. On this particular trip, the kids were cranky, and TPH was hungry, and let me tell you, I don't know which is scarier. Suffice it to say, that was our last trip to IKEA together, and I have been left to navigate IKEA's catacombs alone ever since.


Yesterday, after breezing through with J (whom, like her mother does not going into a catatonic state when shopping there), we were on our way out, when a guy with a wild look in his eye flew by us into the warehouse section muttering, "La'Azazel! Eifo Ha'Kupot?!" ("Oh hell! Where are the registers?!")


Well, TPH, you won't come with me, but after I saw that, I know you'll always be there with me in spirit.

3 comments:

SaraK said...

Hahaha!

Wendy said...

It's on my list of Things to Do Before 120.

Eli said...

hey, lets be fair, i don't call the store "spawn of the devil" just the employees, with their unnatural cheery demeanor.
I call the store: "Pit of blackness, the devourer of money time and hope, empire of absolute evil and utter despair"