So we went to Ikea tonight and picked up a Sniglar, a Minnen Brodyr, and some Alvine Tapet for the bedroom window (we also looked at a Levanger but decided it wouldn’t fit in the car with three passengers). Mom came along and picked up a set of Kompisars for the downstairs cradle. As they were plain white she also picked up some fun fabric and will whip up covers for them.
Mom had never been inside an Ikea. We were there on a specific mission (the little canopy was the only impulse buy) and even with a specific timeframe involved– Mom was going to attend a local Rotary International meeting at 7:00– but she was dazzled by the sensibly-priced, flat-packed wonderland of Swedish whimsy that is Ikea, so we walked through the entire store and looked at nearly everything. (And to be fair, being in full-blown nesting gear myself, I enjoyed ambling through and pointing things out to her.)
She was also baffled, as are many Ikea virgins, by the names given to the products. We explained that many of the names are Swedish place names (though it is actually a bit more complicated than that).
And then I came across a mirror called “Godmorgon” and thought: would that be a Godzilla adversary, or an alternative middle name for the baby? Every product passed was then considered in this light. You tell me:
- Pax (hey, it works for Brangelina!)
Supposedly, 1 in 10 Europeans are conceived in Ikea beds. (Since when, I’d like to know? Was Churchill begat in a Leksvik? Did J.S. Bach wear out a series of Hemnes four-posters whilst serially knocking up his wives?) So perhaps it is appropriate that I am considering scrapping the pretty middle name we picked the other day for one slapped on a self-assembly coffee table.
Or perhaps I am just disgruntled because I’m nearly a week overdue.
PS: If you like Ikea, you will really like Ikea Hacker.