29 Dec 2020
Today we made a trip to a well known Swedish flat pack furniture emporium, to collect an order made by my oldest son.
He’d selected the stuff, paid for it, and all we had to do was park in one of the clearly marked bays designated for this ‘click and collect’ type transaction, and we were good to go.
Now – spoiler alert – there were a significant number of large boxes involved in this collection. Obviously, my cute little yellow car would not be an appropriate vehicle with which to make this collection.
So we borrowed my oldest son’s work van. If you’re interested in what sort of van it was, what capacity and other technical details, you’re flat out of luck because I have no idea. Let’s just all accept that it has a very large capacity in the rear of the van, and is big enough for as much Swedish flat pack furniture as you’d like.
Yes, there may have been a bit more deliberation than would normally happen about how to park this monstrosity in one of the smallish clearly marked bays, but the designated driver of the family managed with relative ease (and by relative ease, I do of course mean he only went backwards and forwards a mere handful of times before we were comfortably parked in the clearly marked bay).
That’s when the entertainment started.
All around us, people were trying to load their massive amounts of pre-paid stacks of Swedish flat pack furniture into vehicles that were clearly not designed for this purpose.
The designated driver and I perched ourselves onto the open back of our monstrosity of a van, patiently awaiting the arrival of our large collection of boxes. We silently giggled as we watched the couple next to us denude their car of everything that was not Swedish flat pack furniture – including a baby seat which we hope did not contain a baby. There were couples loading a mountain of boxes into station wagons that did not have enough height capacity, trailers that weren’t quite long enough,and small hatchbacks that screamed “what on earth were you thinking???”.
Our huge collection of boxes arrived, and with ease we shoved them (oops – if Ben and Meagan are reading this, we gently placed them) into the back of the van.
If unbearably smug had a face, it looked like us.
Until we got to their house and had to unload the stuff, but that’s another story.