Ikea saturday

Oh what a mistake. Why would I think that going to Ikea on a Saturday would be ok?

Mum and dad have decided that I should have the master bedroom. Dad sleeps down stairs since his stroke and mum uses their room just for sleeping and dressing, whereas I spend at least 50% of my time in my room. Having lived away from home for several years, I accumulated a fair amount of stuff, all of which is crammed into my room. The master bedroom is about half as big again as my room, so it makes sense to swap.
That doesn't make it any less creepy though, moving into my parents room...

My mum is moving into the guest room and wants wardrobes to match the other furniture in that room which came from Ikea, so yesterday that's where we went.

After a bit of a detour (dad was insistent that we turned off the north circular after Ikea, so we had a 5 mile 'short cut') we arrived to find a full car park and half the disabled bays filled with the cars of able-bodied people.

The shop itself was rammed and everyone seemed to have at least 1 screaming child. I guess they had scared off the herds of cats which normally roam the store...

At times I still don't do well with crowds and this was one of those times. Too many people, too much noise and dad not helping by throwing tantrums.

I amused myself by imagining all the different ways to kill people with the little stubby Ikea pencils and paper tape measures. Morbid, I know, but it kept me from doing it for real... At one point a fat woman looked like a porcupine because of the number of pencils I'd stuck in her. Annoyingly she didn't seem to notice and continued waddling slowly in front of me.

It's a good job my back is pretty much better as Ikea's idea of 'self service' doesn't appear to have weight limits...

The trip was ultimately successful, but I will never go back on a weekend, if at all.