I pulled out of the driveway at 8:30 with the three kids who were in varying states of dishevelment and disarray.
Drove to our friends' place in the east end for 9:00. Dropped the kids off there, bringing the total number of children under one roof to six, with minimal instructions on how to keep them alive, let alone happy.
Drove to Boone's and spent an hour and a half ordering: 3 toilets, a tub faucet, a sink faucet, a kitchen faucet and a shower faucet. Note: The toilets took the longest. Do you want an elongated bowl? Do you prefer the two-piece or single? Would you like a dual flush? How about a chrome handle?
Next came the Re-store where I fell in love with a mohagany fireplace mantel. Ornately carved with leaved branches and plumed birds. Alas, there was no way it was going to fit into the space I had in mind.
Hit Cohen and Cohen where I fought covetousness, once again, this time over everything I laid eyes on. There were massive carved wooden doors, stained glass windows, wrought-iron farmhouse grates, deacons benches and more. But I had come for brick, and sadly left without. . .
To Starbucks to refuel on a sandwhich. (No coffee. Good girl).
RONA to hunt down sinks. Why did they all come attached to something? Why were they all shaped like shells? Yeck. Also, no wide-planked flooring. And no paint sales.
Now to IKEA--the cult-like mecca for people who can't stop spending money on their homes. I spent another hour and a half in the kitchen department ordering new cabinets and countertops, and befriending the harried saleswoman. I was confident going in, but the red NON_REFUNDABLE stamp across my order form now has me doubting everything.
Off to the IKEA warehouse to pick up the things I just ordered. Talked a young guy into cramming way too much stuff into a way too small car.
Tearing down the highway, with a bunjee-closed trunk, to the lot where Aidan and I unloaded everything. (I barely had time to notice to gorgeous front steps Dave!)
Back across town, and I mean ACROSS town, from the West end to the East end in rush hour traffic to pick up the kids.
Home.
Who wants to try it?
