The Mister and I went on a roadtrip last Monday to Ikea, which was mightily successful. Not only did we buy a whole lot of stuff we both liked, we were still speaking to each other by the time we went home. Tell me that happens all the time at Ikea. (Once, when I was perusing the paint aisle at Home Depot, I was able to clearly hear the couple down the way....she raised her voice and said to him, in a deadly serious tone, "you can stop that passive-aggressive shit right now, or I am out of here!" And I thought, man, you haven't even started the paint job yet; it's only going to go downhill fast from here. I'd get out now if I were you.) Usually, I get so overwhelmed at Ikea that I leave without anything I came for, but with 100 tea-lights and a garlic press. Having the Mister there was a big plus, if only because he has no use for tea-lights.
A few months ago, we started re-doing the bathroom, and have only now gotten around to finished the paint job and getting the whole thing finished. (Those frigging hearts were a bitch to paint, let me tell you. We painted every single one with primer, and then again with beige. I was seeing hearts in my sleep, I tell you. The decendents of that tiler will be feeling my curses for many generations.) At Ikea we got a new light fixture and some stuff for the walls. Very successful.
Then we went to get new curtains for our bedroom, and ended up getting a new duvet cover and a headboard for behind the bed. The Mister put the whole thing together and mounted it on the wall before bedtime. We were delighted with the transformation....now it looks like real
grownups, and not students, live here!
I am a terrible decorator, without any ablity to see what things will look like when they are actually in my home. The Mister is much better than I, and could see the potential in that headboard way better than me. I just thought it looked like an overgrown Venitian blind, but it looks very sleek and modern.
But while we were at Ikea, I managed to make an absolute fool of myself. I was wandering around the bedlinens area, and I had one of their big bags slung over my shoulder with a towel rack in it. The towel rack was largish, and metal, but not too difficult to carry. But somehow, I managed to absolutely nail some poor young man in the goolies, not once, but twice, with it as I was looking at pillow cases and bed sheets. Honestly, I completely compromised his manhood both times. Then, I goosed him from behind, as the Mister and I were trying to see the price on some curtains. He was really, really not amused by this, and the fact that I was starting to giggle somewhat hysterically probably didn't help. (It wasn't that I was entertained by sexually assaulting him, it was that I was getting increasingly frantic that I stop.) Then I started to get a little annoyed at him, because really, he might want to think about being somewhere where I am not if he wanted to ever father children. The Mister ignored the situation as mightily as he could.
Then we went for lunch (Swedish meatballs and potatoes and lingonberry sauce. Why do would you put jam on meatballs, anyway? Makes no sense to me.) and talked about re-doing the kitchen and why there are no Ikeas anywhere near us but three within a half an hour of each other in Toronto, and what kind of coffee table do we want anyway, and then we went home.
We had a good day, and will definetly start in on the kitchen soon, and another trip to Ikea will happen. I just hope that guy stays home this time.