Men and women really shouldn’t go shopping together.
I wonder how many relationships have fallen apart after an arduous afternoon in Ikea?
With the number of a solicitor in my back pocket, off to the worst-situated Ikea store in the world we went.
With two big cruise ships docked, it seemed every car south of London was using this one road to get to the shops or the ships.
Southampton city planners should be sent packing to Siberia for such thoughtlessness.
Frazzled, we arrived at the spiral car park.
You then have to make your way to the top of the store and work your way down. Already my head was spinning.
We only went in for candles. How on earth did we manage to spend £250?
With less hair and a total loss of direction, it seems Ikea is like stepping into the third dimension.
Upon leaving it takes several minutes to realise exactly where you are and even longer working out where you’ve parked the car.
In my mind, I knew exactly what we wanted and where to find it. I felt 30 minutes would be plentiful.
Before I knew it, we’d be eating meatballs and I’d be checking the football scores.
How wrong could I be? Because I forgot that women like to look at every item in the store.
They want to measure it, hold it up and ask the question ‘How do you think this would look?’
I love our house the way it is. I don’t want any more cabinets, rugs, lampshades or bedspreads.
We have enough cushions to save the planet from a meteor strike and a ‘throw’ big enough to cover Portsmouth harbour.
I can see why my wife got fed up with my constant ‘no we don’t need that’ replies and the dragging of my knuckles on the floor. But I’d hoped she’d get the message.
My short attention span had gone after we left ‘kitchenware’. Three hours later, I’d lost the will to live.
I’ve since discovered the Co-op just down the road from our house sells candles...