If everything has gone according to plan, you will be reading this whilst I’m in my own bed, sleeping off our first road trip from our home in upstate New York to the IKEA in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. I wrote this post before we left because I knew by Sunday, I’d probably be physically, emotionally, mentally, spiritually and quite possibly financially drained and in no condition to write anything other than possibly a suicide note. A short one at that.
If everything has not gone according to plan, you will be reading this while I am stuck on the side of the road somewhere in some Godforsaken little shit town, watching Nate read a map and fiddle with his GPS. I am most likely torn between the desire to holler at him for refusing YET AGAIN to ask for directions and the urge to skip the hollering entirely and jump to the part where I strangle him with the map and his own testicles.
I hope our trip was successful.
I hope Nate still has his testicles.
I hope Helena’s bedroom has new shelving to organize the 5,476 items that survived the GO CLEAN OUT YOUR ROOM, I BET YOUR FATHER $50 THAT YOU HAD CARPET IN THERE SOMEWHERE episode from two weeks ago.
I hope our kitchen has a new table. One that isn’t pitted, scratched, gouged, lopsided, decoupaged with magic marker or held together with a cement-like foreign substance which, upon closer inspection, might have been actual cheese at some point.
I hope our dining room has a table now. Maybe even some chairs. Chairs that don’t shriek and then immediately collapse at the sight of an impending fanny.
I hope our office has some new storage units that don’t look as if they were built by Dr. Seuss. And a new work station that won’t sag under the pressure of an irritated fifteen year old trying to block the view of her Facebook chat from her inquisitive nine year old sibling who can’t help but lean over her and yell I’M NOT READING IT! AM NOT. YOU CAN’T TELL ME WHERE TO STAND. YOU’RE NOT THE BOSS OF ME seventeen times a minute.
I hope Nate and I agreed on everything and are still on speaking terms.
I hope my offspring behaved themselves and that I was not forced to commit spontaneous involuntary manslaughter on I90.
I hope we have money left over to pay our mortgage and maybe even eat.
I hope when I wake up, I’m a size six and all my laundry is done.
Have you ever been to IKEA?
What was your favorite purchase?
What’s the one thing you bought and now regret?
And most importantly, did you think their meatballs were everything they were cracked up to be?