IKEA and some well-deserved brownie points

Jake and I kicked off this weekend with a trip to one of my favorite stores.  *Ever.*  It's the hard-to-miss blue and yellow monstrosity directly off of I-95 that I like to call IKEA.  I was super psyched to go, not only for the great finds, but also to be able to see some good friends of ours.  The four of us got there around 2 on Saturday afternoon, fueled ourselves up with some IKEA cafeteria food (Swedish meatballs and lingenberries anyone?) and began our excursion.  Being the incredible multi-level money-pit that it is, we didn't emerge into daylight again until about 5:15.  I almost felt like I had been in some sort of time continuum as I blinked into the bright sun.  I might have actually been in there for days and not been the wiser.

First of all, I must dole out brownie points.  The first set goes to Jake.  My sweet husband is normally the pillar of patience in just about any circumstance, but- probably like most guys- his attention span morphs into that of a 2 year-old upon entering into any retail facility.  (After one particular experience in Kohls, I thought we might need to consider counseling).   I recognized that this was not his ideal way to spend a Saturday, but figured since we were able to share the trip with Chris and Becca, he would at least have another guy there with which to commiserate.  As we wound through the maze of mod furniture and knick-knacks with such names like Vaker, Vorkelstopffen, Ekby Hensvik and Malma (to name only a few), I had to control the amount of drool seeping out the corners of my mouth while his eyes glazed over and he became particularly interested in any sign that pointed us in the direction of the checkout.   Unfortunately for him, the checkout was located at the very end of a maze of showrooms, which lead to the marketplace, which in turn lead to the gargantuan warehouse.  Even if you know *exactly* what you're going in there for, the idiotic (or perhaps smart?) design people made it so that you HAVE to wind through every little nook and cranny before you reach the long awaited shrine of checkout registers.  Big brownie points to him.   He's officially maxed out his shopping quota for the year now.  

And major brownie points also go to my right hip, which decided to start aching about a third of the way into our trek.  Being nearly 8 months pregnant, easily fatigued and somewhat achy isn't exactly *ideal* for big shopping excursions, but I felt ready to tackle the challenge (twist my arm, right?)  I arrived armed with Tylenol, comfy (but stylish) shoes, snack baggies and drink in my purse and nothing was going to stop me.  Except my hip.  After navigating tight aisle spaces, guarding my belly against shopping carts driven by people running on pure IKEA adrenaline and sitting in a few too many low-lying Swedish futons- only to discover that I couldn't get up- my right hip was clearly angry with me for putting it through such agony.   On the car ride home, I felt as though I had been hit by a semi.  *Sigh*  I can't wait to have my body back again.

The reason for this trip?  I swear I'm not a masochist- I just love to shop.  And of course, I love my friends even more, so it was a successful trip all the way around.  What's even more exciting?  The set of closet organization gadgets I now get to put to good use (nesting much?) Forget clothes.  If you need me, I'll be in our walk-in closet until all is as it should be.