So I Bought this Furniture at Ikea...

On Saturday I visited Ikea with Abby and my friend Cathie. I'd been planning on purchasing a dresser for Ian in the foolhardy hopes that he would actually put his clothes away and shut his drawers if he had more drawer space to work with. I realize this highly unlikely to actually happen, but a mom can dream. So off to Ikea we went.

I'd been to Ikea only once or twice before and had never purchased any of their furniture. Frankly, the place scares me. As a rule, I hate shopping and any store that provides a map at the entrance is bound to overwhelm me. Luckily Cathie was fairly well-versed in Ikea-ese, so she guided me relatively painlessly through the maze. It helped that I had already identified a dresser that I liked in their catalog. We found said dresser, jotted down the aisle and bin number for self pick-up, and proceeded to the cafe where I was told I would enjoy a pretty darn good meal for a most reasonable price.

Abby and Cathie had the Swedish Meatballs while I opted for the chicken tenders and fries. Abby raved about the meatballs, proclaiming them to be as good as they were at Girl Scout camp (the kid has high standards) and honestly, my chicken fingers were outstanding. We also shared a piece of chocolate cake that was so tasty it required sharing a second piece. We even purchased frozen meatballs and mashed potatoes to take home. This was shaping up to be a most excellent shopping adventure. In my happy state, I decided to splurge and buy Ian a nightstand, too, in the hopes that he won't throw his books on the floor anymore. As I've said, a mom can dream.

Muscles 1 (Cathie) & Muscles 2 (Abby), carried the heavy furniture boxes to the car, and off we went, delighted with all we had accomplished. But then Cathie decided to be a downer and reminded me that I would need to assemble this furniture. And she predicted a blog post would result. And, alas, she was right.

Now, many a braver woman than I would allow her husband to take the reigns on the assembly part of a furniture purchase. However, not all women are married to men who morph into Mr. Hyde the moment they are handed a screwdriver, hammer, and instructions in picture-only form. I knew that if I wanted a curse-free Sunday, I would need to take matters into my own hands. So I handed the project over to Abby.

We decided to start small and try to finish the nightstand before tackling the substantially more intimidating dresser. The thinking is that this would bolster our confidence. And we were right. All was going swimmingly. We had legs, a top, and even a back on our nightstand and were feeling really good about ourselves. But then it all came crashing down at step 18.

We had screwed the drawers together wrong, with the pre-drilled holes for the sliding tracks on the inside instead of the outside. And naturally the screws that were holding the drawer together were plastic and hammered in with no means of removal. I was determined to succeed at all costs and so I pulled out the power drill. Abby found a drill bit that looked to size. I marked the spot where the holes were needed. And then I discovered I had no idea how to use a drill. (My father is shaking his head in profound disappointment as he reads this).

At this point determination gave way to desperation. I called for my husband.

Not only did he solve the problem, but he taught me, for future reference, how to use the drill. And nary a curse word fell from his self-satisfied lips.

Tonight I'm making him put together the dresser.