Tuesday, September 22, 2009


If there is ever a moment that you might regret your decision to have a kid, it is when you're in Ikea on a weekend. Particularly as dozens run screaming through the rat-maze that is your own personal Ikea-hell.

They terrorize all the poor bastards looking frantically for the shortcut to the marketplace. Running through your legs, throwing various unpurchased items (knife sets, kettle bells, tantroms - the usual), and otherwise being left alone like an especially homely and comfortable Lord of the Flies.

I don't know if the children really are our future.

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