Commerce No. 1

Prior to the wedding, our one and only premarital counseling session consisted of an afternoon of quality hangout time with one of the coolest pastor/wife duos we know. The moral of the afternoon was pretty simple: “Be nice to each other.”

We did go into more than that, of course, but anyone’s whose been through premarital counseling can give you a basic list of things bound to trip up a pair of happily-married newlyweds: money, sex, children, etc., etc., et. al. It’s a good list to go over and I’m glad we were aware of those areas ahead of time, but everyone seems to have left out one, troubling, explosive zone of matrimonial disharmony.

Furniture.

(Don't let the handsome man fool you. He is secretly thinking of ways to convince his wife to okay the purchase of that $50 lamp: an impulse buy that was totally NOT on the pre-approved list.)

Yes, it’s true. Bert and I fight more about furniture than any other topic. (Food is a distance second. For a good laugh, ask him about the epic “Cinnamon Bun Battle of Tannersville” sometime.) I’m not sure what this says about us, our maturity level, or the compatibility of our design sensibilities, but if you put two people through design school – thankfully, the same one, otherwise we might have a lot more issues – and then ask them to set up an apartment together, there’s bound to be some sparks.

This underlying tension came to a head this weekend during our visit to that stalwart bastion of European capitalism loved by poor, furniture-less people the western world over: Ikea. Philadelphia is blessed with not just one, but TWO Ikeas (Ikei?), so on Sunday we buzzed on down after church to the closer one in Conshohocken. (This is Pennsylvanian for “Susquehanna was already taken, so this is the second-most torturous combination of consonants and vowels we could come up with.” Haha. Just kidding. It really means, “A location only reached by paying ridiculous amounts of Turnpike tolls,” which we all know is somewhat akin to modern-day highway robbery, seeing as how PENNDOT has not paved a road since 2001.)

We already had a rough idea of what we needed: a dresser, a bookshelf, desk, and maybe a bed. Generally, we are big fans of anything in the Malm or Expedit family (Don’t even suggest a Hemnes to Bert. OMG. I thought we were through right then and there.), so you’d think the whole outing would be as simple as downing a plate of $1.99 Swedish meatballs, right?

Ha. If only.

Why? I don’t know. Maybe it was because the Malm bed turned out to be a big, chunky mess and my beloved Edland was made of particleboard matchsticks. Or because I told Bert every desk he liked was ugly. (I believe my exact words were, "Those legs look like mailing tubes.") Or because he was intent on believing that bedrooms should have two low dressers. (A girl’s got to stick to her guns, okay?) Let’s just say that by the time we made it to the Café, we both decided we better sit down and have a cuppa so as to avoid duking it out in full view of all the impressionable children in Smaland downstairs.

It was a wise decision. The coffee turned out to be free, which made my day – unbeknownst to us, it was “spend a lot of money and get free food” day – and the cafeteria had automatic dispensers for the cream AND sugar, which made Bert’s. Saved by European loss leaders and ingenuity! Thank you, Lord.

(I also got a free froyo on the way out for signing up for Ikea's new frequent shopper card. Yes, sweets do shut me up. I am five-years old that way. Especially when they're free.)

The quick breather was just what we needed and our stroll through the lower level was decidedly less volatile. We decided on a high 6-drawer Malm dresser in black brown, one 2x4 Exedit bookshelf in white, and two Expedit desks in white. We decided to not buy an Ikea bed due to quality concerns and instead sprung for this bad boy from West Elm when we got home. (This also turned out to be a wise decision due to space concerns. The Mazda was packed out as it was.) Bert whipped out the big guns and showed those flat packs who was boss, while I hovered close by for moral support and lateral stability.

(This is his second cart. Before he could load the first cart, he managed to give it away to a little, old lady who needed one. He is such a boy scout. I <3 him. :)

So what was the moral of this afternoon? I'm not sure. We are easily soothed by coffee? The Eames we are not? Bert can make it through anything when he knows there's a cinnamon bun waiting for him at the end? (Although that didn't hold true in Tannersville...) Maybe it is just "Be nice to each other." So simple. So Ikea. Sign us up. I'll go for that even without the freebie.

(No, I did not intentionally dress in Ikea colors. And yes, I am wearing every one's favorite sandals. Hurray for the first Teva day of the year!)