Chasing My Husband Through IKEA

I got my husband’s permission to blog about him again. (Yeeeessss.) I used to write all kinds of wordy metaphorical elaborations about life on this blog. Now I’m in this identity crisis of words, where I don’t know what I have to say, or what you want to read. Funny? Deep? Inspirational? Are we reviewing movies and books, philosophizing about life, or talking about Jesus? What the heck are we doing here?

I’m not ditching A Word Paints A Thousand Pictures. But I am still figuring out What This Blog Is All About. Which means right now I’m trying to write every day for myself before I write for you. I’m reading books about beauty and theology. I’m laughing at Jon Acuff and Melanie Dale, making recipes from Shay at Mix and Match Mama, and listening to season 2 of Serial!

And I’m chasing my husband through IKEA.

So we just moved to a new apartment and found ourselves in need of another dresser and some office accessories. Saturday, we found ourselves at that Swedish emporium of modern furniture with two million other Minnesotans. I thought the place would be empty – I mean, it was 0 degrees out.

No. Apparently, when we are cold, we Minnesotans go shopping. Armed with yellow bag, notepad, and small wooden pencil, we pressed into the masses.

If you’ve visited IKEA, you know no words can fully describe this experience. It’s huge. It’s loud. There are so many nooks and crannies, you could hide in a random armoire and nobody would ever see you again. And if you make it to the end alive, there are cinnamon rolls for a dollar.

So we’re walking. Well, I’m walking. Alex is running.


Blurry due to the high speeds at which we were moving here.

Now, a day at IKEA sounded semi-datish to me. I imagined us strolling through the showroom, hand in hand, relaxed! Oohing and aahing at all that Swedish ingenuity.

But I forgot two things:

  1. There’s nothing relaxed about IKEA.
  2. There’s nothing relaxed about my husband when he’s shopping

Alex blazed through the store like someone had pulled the fire alarm.

Meanwhile, the sensory overload made me forgot we just needed a dresser and some office accessories. (This overwhelmed sensation is all part of IKEA’s evil plan.) In our dash through the store, we encountered the $5 bins, which held me spellbound until Alex suddenly appeared in my peripheral vision, shouting, “Can you focus on what we came for?”


Gosh, they’re so cocky!

We finally reached the dressers, where things slowed down a little. We opened drawers together, compared colors. Became vulnerable to share our hearts (Alex: “This feels cheap.” Me: “Yep.”) We finally landed on a nice black-brown six-drawer guy, and I thought, this is starting to get fun! Let’s look at more furniture!

And we were off again. No time to stop, though I suddenly found myself convinced that we needed a variety of framed prints, fake potted foliage, a French press, and some random but highly useful-looking kitchen contraptions. Of course we were separated by a sea of strollers and extremely stressed-out parents, so unfortunately, he couldn’t hear my cries to “Come over here and look at this strange woven contraption that I think is a potholder but doubles as a hat!!!”

And suddenly, it was over. We were in the marketplace, hoisting our dresser off the shelves, getting in line, and that was that.

Coming out of the showroom, I felt something similar to a sugar crash, incredibly distressed that we Didn’t. Even. LOOK. At. Anything.

But the feeling wore off. And then I felt thankful that Alex kept his head in the midst of full-on IKEA oppression so we didn’t buy junk we didn’t need. Honestly, I don’t think he took his eyes off the navigational signage the whole time. (That must be the secret! Don’t look away! The EXIT is coming!)

So I cast lovey, grateful eyes at Alex, who squirmed but agreed to pose for my selfie as long as I bought him a Mountain Dew from the Swedish Food Market.


Me: “Perfect!” Alex: Eye roll

All in all, chasing your husband through IKEA isn’t so bad if you come out with a new dresser and some office accessories – exactly what you came for. And if you’ve worked up a sweat doing it.



3 thoughts on “Chasing My Husband Through IKEA

  1. Love, love, love this Brooke. Can relate about Ikea. So much to look at and to little time. The problem with Harold and I is both of us like to look so it literally takes us forever and I poop out before he does. Thanks for sharing. Very well written and tell Alex I am proud of him and love the selfie at the end. Very nice looking couple.

    • It’s a fun store for sure! You and Harold are troopers! Alex isn’t much of a shopper in general, so I’m thankful he doesn’t make me go alone… 🙂 thanks for reading, Dawn!

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