Long ago I vowed to never buy flat pack furniture again. Not only is it stressful to assemble, but it doesn’t survive the test of time and is somewhat lacking in character. We have mostly furnished our house from online reclamation sites and charity shops (our wardrobe has the name “Jasmine” inscribed on the inside in ornate letters… I like to that that Jasmine was in fact a princess!).
Anywho, on a recent IKEA adventure, I remembered my vow, but figured the same principles needn’t apply to lighting. A light is a light, right??
For those brave enough to test this theory, here is how NOT to install an IKEA ceiling light:
- Begin without reading instructions (because adults don’t read picture books).
- Assume that all necessary tools are in the house, somewhere.
- Commence without clearing schedule and/or arranging evening babysitting. It should probably only take ten minutes or so.
- Ignore the recommended aid of an electrician, they are expensive.
- Realise that you are missing necessary tool. Go buy said tool.
- Turn off electricity midway through a laundry cycle (oopsies).
- Rely on google image to find out which wire is live. If you cut the wrong one, you’ll know.
- Realise that you are also missing electrical tape. Go buy said tape.
- Laugh at husband when things start to go wrong.
- Take pictures of the mayhem.
- Allow husband to catch you taking pictures of the mayhem.
- Blame husband for not reading instructions.
- Refuse blame for buying the lamp in the first place.
- Announce that actually three of the blasted lamps were purchased and are awaiting installation.
- Blow fuse (in every way possible).
- Give baby zero attention and feel like a cruddy parent.
- Reluctantly accept defeat and announce a pizza break.
- Eat (in darkness), hug it out (begrudgingly), and talk about the “good old days”, when children didn’t exist and houses were rented.
It’s probably quite evident that I was not paid by IKEA for this post. But for what it’s worth, I will admit that their high chairs are awesome, and that time spent with a toddler in the Swedish funhouse can be imaginative and colorful! I will also confess how VERY lucky I am to have a husband who always tries his hardest during home décor sagas (of which we have had many), and queues with me for IKEA hot dogs despite thinking that they are “vile and made from bums and eyelids”. We make a pretty good team, all things considering. ♥