On Monday morning, our power went out. A City of Chicago tree crashed into a ComEd power line, taking two power boxes and power for 90.9 percent of the houses on our block along with it. ComEd and the City sounded worse than my children during a squabble ("It's not my fault. You fix it." "No, you fix it first." "No, you." "NO, YOU."), leaving us without power for a dreadful 36 hours.*
What was a mama to do? Go to IKEA, of course!
I love IKEA. Certainly not as much as these folks, and probably not as much as the friend who once sent weekly countdown emails for the opening of the Emeryville IKEA, but my love for IKEA has been fierce and unwavering since my French host family took me to "Chez IKEA" in Paris when I was 17. I love Chicago because it's got O'Hare and a direct line to anywhere in the world, but I also love it because it's got two IKEA stores within a 40-minute drive.
I go there when it's cold outside (indeed, it was The Boy's first outing in February 2003). I go there when it's hot outside (as I told a family friend earlier this week, it's cheaper than a trip to the movies). I go to put the kids in Smaland. I go for inspiration, for lunch, to kill time, or because I just haven't been there in awhile.
* I know there were households worse off than we were. I'm just sayin'