The best Swedish thing after Abba is Ikea. Last Saturday Mr. C announced that we need to go to buy moving boxes in Ikea. I don't say no to Ikea, even Mr. C would like me to wear eye patches. The same ones you can put on horses to narrow the visual area. Anyhow without any eye patches we only bought the boxes. And some Swedish food. And some few other things.
But the craziest thing happened to me while we were walking around the show area. I walked in a laundry room and I said to my own shock, this is my dream room. I repeat myself. I said: 'this is my dream room'. About a laundry room. No. No. No. If that was me, I am not playing anymore. Put your self together. What is happening? Who is this person dreaming about a laundry room??
Just while ago I was dreaming of a walking closet. This is the person I know. And Mr. C (the handyman) made me a walking closet. Now I'm afraid he is going to make me laundry room. And there I shall live my life happily ever after with all the laundry.
This man in the picture, he is ready to build. Beware what you say out loud and for Gods sake relax with the laundry. Please.
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