Obviously, this post is about poop.
Motherhood is mainly about shit. Did they poop? How big? Did it get on you?!
So we go to ikea… The monstrous place that I always get lost in…
I know, shocking… As the blog is called “poop at ikea”
So I walk 15 miles to the exit… go to the car… sweat through my blow dried hair and makeup… and go back in to find husband.
Yes, makeup… I literally do it twice a week (Saturday and Sunday). This way I look decent for the majority of the day around the man of the house.
I find my way back through the haunted warehouse of household goods… Back to husband…
No progress has been made on choosing an appropriate wall unit for our home.
Tiny human begins tantrum.
Honestly, what does she want? We are in a magical place where she can touch just about everything. I don’t see the issue, but she has one.
Husband removes her from me and takes her on a walk, so I can design the wall unit.
After aging 10years at the design computer, we print out the paper needed to buy each individual piece and we are on our way.
Again, I make our way through the maze of never-ending household goods… to the warehouse..
Wouldn’t you know it? She shits again! UHHHHH again?!? Why? Why? WHY???
I make my way out to the car, so I can again wipe shit off a tiny ass. Husband gathers parts that will later be an 8hr project. (No joke, it was literally 8hrs).
Once more, I make my way back through the warehouse. I find husband, and he proceeds to tell me that he can’t find the legs for the unit. There are none in the section.
I find Ikea man… it is now well into the afternoon and Ikea is hopping like South Beach during a music festival. He looks up the part and they will not have it again for 2 weeks… “But, Miami Ikea has a ton”.
How do you build a wall unit without feet? Fuck FUCK FuCK FUCK.
I find husband and break the bad news… he has 1/2 a ton sitting on the flat bed cart ready to purchase.
Looks like we are going to Miami. FML.