WHIKEA?
Mr. Yoy worked pretty much all day Sunday.
I stayed home with the boys and attempted to clean up and organize the house after having contractors out here all week.
By about 4pm, we were all going stir crazy. Mr. Yoy asked if we wanted to meet him at Ikea around 5. I was desperate to get out and I believe this impaired my judgement.
SURE, WE'LL MEET AT IKEA ON A SUNDAY AT DINNERTIME IN 90 DEGREE WEATHER, WHY NOT?
First up on our Ikea list was to return something. It was a pretty painless process, but it was here that the decision was made (by Big E) for both boys to ride in the same shopping cart. This would turn out to be a fatal error.
We headed to the Swedish food section to pick up our favorite, Swedish Fish. We talked them up to the boys in the hopes the chewy deliciousness would keep them occupied and quiet for the duration of our visit.
WAIT, THEY ARE SOLD OUT OF SWEDISH FISH? WHAT KIND OF IKEA IS THIS?
Good thing I had a back-up plan. Snack cups for all!
As we approached the elevator, we tried to sell the kid play area to Big E. We showed him the ball pit and all the kids playing. He peered in, but in the end he wasn't sold. He wanted to go with us. DANG.
We meandered our way through the maze that is Ikea. Somewhere around the desks, Big E had to use the bathroom. Shocking.
I pull him out of the cart and begin the process of finding our way to the bathroom. Good thing I had puffs to drop as a trail, so we could make our way back to Mr. Yoy and Little E.
Just as we returned back to the desks, Mr. Yoy had to use the bathroom. Off he went.
Just as Mr. Yoy returned back to the desks, Big E exclaimed he had to go to the bathroom, AGAIN. By now, the other customers thought we were part of the desk display. We had taken up semi-permanent residence there.
I CAN'T SHOP LIKE THIS! LET'S GO!
Mr. Yoy had hit his limit. We all made our way to the bathrooms.
Next we headed downstairs to the textiles area. Mr. Yoy was looking for a frame.
The boys were done with their snack cups. Big E set his eyes on Little E. It was torture time. He began by trying to fold the cart seat that Little E was sitting in. Little E would let out a shriek. Big E would echo back in an equally loud and shrill shriek.
I threatened Big E.
IF YOU DON'T STOP TOUCHING YOUR BROTHER, MR. IKEA IS GOING TO KICK US OUT!
Big E didn't care. He continued to bop him on the head and pester Little E.
Finally, I took Big E out of the cart to get him away from Little E. This didn't solve my problem. Big E grabbed the shopping cart and tried to push his brother around.
I don't know if you've ever pushed an Ikea shopping cart, but there is absolutely no steering on it. You just sort of float around and attempt to not hit the other customers.
I spent the next ten minutes or so fighting for control of the cart.
I'M HUNGRY! I'M HUNGRY! I'M HUNGRY!
Big E played the hunger card. He had just had a giant snack cup, so I knew he wasn't starving, he just wanted to leave.
So did we. We just couldn't find our way out.
HELP! PLEASE! ANYONE? WE NEED TO FIND OUR WAY OFF THIS ISLAND!
By the time we reached check out, Big E was in tears.
WHEN DID WE ENTER CRIKEA?
I glanced around to see if people were staring at us.
I WANT TO GO TO A RESTAURANT!
Not to be outdone, Little E was shrieking like a mad man.
WHOSE KID IS THIS AND WHY CAN'T YOU CONTROL HIM?
Mr. Yoy's attempt at humor at this moment. I contemplated running away.
We got the boys loaded up and tried to calm Big E down. He was inconsolable. There was no way in hell we were taking these kids to a restaurant. We were headed home STAT.
Mr. Yoy asked Big E where he wanted to eat. In that instant, Big E had a moment of clarity, completely stopped crying/sobbing/shuddering and said clear as day:
JIM N NICKS.
Mr. Yoy and I both busted out laughing.
I WANT MUFFINS!
Oy. I headed home with the boys and Mr. Yoy ran to grab some dinner for us. At home. Where no one else would be exposed to our children.
I noticed about half way home that silence had taken over the backseat. I checked the mirror and sure enough, Big E was zonked out. He was done. I put him right to bed when we arrived home.
Ah, silence. How I've missed you so.
I stayed home with the boys and attempted to clean up and organize the house after having contractors out here all week.
By about 4pm, we were all going stir crazy. Mr. Yoy asked if we wanted to meet him at Ikea around 5. I was desperate to get out and I believe this impaired my judgement.
SURE, WE'LL MEET AT IKEA ON A SUNDAY AT DINNERTIME IN 90 DEGREE WEATHER, WHY NOT?
First up on our Ikea list was to return something. It was a pretty painless process, but it was here that the decision was made (by Big E) for both boys to ride in the same shopping cart. This would turn out to be a fatal error.
We headed to the Swedish food section to pick up our favorite, Swedish Fish. We talked them up to the boys in the hopes the chewy deliciousness would keep them occupied and quiet for the duration of our visit.
WAIT, THEY ARE SOLD OUT OF SWEDISH FISH? WHAT KIND OF IKEA IS THIS?
Good thing I had a back-up plan. Snack cups for all!
As we approached the elevator, we tried to sell the kid play area to Big E. We showed him the ball pit and all the kids playing. He peered in, but in the end he wasn't sold. He wanted to go with us. DANG.
We meandered our way through the maze that is Ikea. Somewhere around the desks, Big E had to use the bathroom. Shocking.
I pull him out of the cart and begin the process of finding our way to the bathroom. Good thing I had puffs to drop as a trail, so we could make our way back to Mr. Yoy and Little E.
Just as we returned back to the desks, Mr. Yoy had to use the bathroom. Off he went.
Just as Mr. Yoy returned back to the desks, Big E exclaimed he had to go to the bathroom, AGAIN. By now, the other customers thought we were part of the desk display. We had taken up semi-permanent residence there.
I CAN'T SHOP LIKE THIS! LET'S GO!
Mr. Yoy had hit his limit. We all made our way to the bathrooms.
Next we headed downstairs to the textiles area. Mr. Yoy was looking for a frame.
The boys were done with their snack cups. Big E set his eyes on Little E. It was torture time. He began by trying to fold the cart seat that Little E was sitting in. Little E would let out a shriek. Big E would echo back in an equally loud and shrill shriek.
I threatened Big E.
IF YOU DON'T STOP TOUCHING YOUR BROTHER, MR. IKEA IS GOING TO KICK US OUT!
Big E didn't care. He continued to bop him on the head and pester Little E.
Finally, I took Big E out of the cart to get him away from Little E. This didn't solve my problem. Big E grabbed the shopping cart and tried to push his brother around.
I don't know if you've ever pushed an Ikea shopping cart, but there is absolutely no steering on it. You just sort of float around and attempt to not hit the other customers.
I spent the next ten minutes or so fighting for control of the cart.
I'M HUNGRY! I'M HUNGRY! I'M HUNGRY!
Big E played the hunger card. He had just had a giant snack cup, so I knew he wasn't starving, he just wanted to leave.
So did we. We just couldn't find our way out.
HELP! PLEASE! ANYONE? WE NEED TO FIND OUR WAY OFF THIS ISLAND!
By the time we reached check out, Big E was in tears.
WHEN DID WE ENTER CRIKEA?
I glanced around to see if people were staring at us.
I WANT TO GO TO A RESTAURANT!
Not to be outdone, Little E was shrieking like a mad man.
WHOSE KID IS THIS AND WHY CAN'T YOU CONTROL HIM?
Mr. Yoy's attempt at humor at this moment. I contemplated running away.
We got the boys loaded up and tried to calm Big E down. He was inconsolable. There was no way in hell we were taking these kids to a restaurant. We were headed home STAT.
Mr. Yoy asked Big E where he wanted to eat. In that instant, Big E had a moment of clarity, completely stopped crying/sobbing/shuddering and said clear as day:
JIM N NICKS.
Mr. Yoy and I both busted out laughing.
I WANT MUFFINS!
Oy. I headed home with the boys and Mr. Yoy ran to grab some dinner for us. At home. Where no one else would be exposed to our children.
I noticed about half way home that silence had taken over the backseat. I checked the mirror and sure enough, Big E was zonked out. He was done. I put him right to bed when we arrived home.
Ah, silence. How I've missed you so.
The summer heat must have melted my brain. This was a bad, bad idea.
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