Ikea Backpacks

The other day we were at the Ikea, for some reason I had a sudden urge for more wooden hangers and convinced the hubby that the half an hour drive there on a very warm day was worth it, I would even buy him lunch.

We arrived at 12:50pm on a Saturday. Worst. Decision. Ever. It was a mad house, we could barely find ourselves a space in the windy queue for terrible food and after battling the super high stools Ross always insists we sit at (I’m a small person! Sometimes I swear he likes watching me struggle with tall things) we ran fast paced through the model rooms and found ourselves in the children’s section.

I wanted a new toy for George and I had my eye on a Bambi but I needed the perfect Bambi so as I searched through the dump bin of toy deer with collars on Ross watched the chaos around him. There were children running everywhere (I was loving it) and Ross firmly announced, out of nowhere “When we have kids I’m dominating the child in the back pack concept.” I swooned, secretly. Could there be anything sweeter?

A giant man, with a tiny backpack, with a baby in it.

‘Nuff said




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