It seemed easier to stop by Ikea to shop. I took my three sons along for meatballs. We walked around the shop and tried to figure out which bed Markus wanted. The walls were covered in black and white with twinkle lights tacked up against the corner table where I had to step up to sit down. Shoes were optional. The boys sat on a small sofa, suitable for a studio, and put their legs the same direction. It was too good to pass up. I had the sense of overwhelming love. I came in ready to shop with a lingonberry kick and instead was lulled to lingering by the afternoon light, laughing boys, and spring vibe. We returned with futon and cover on a silver frame, which I slipped in the back to assemble at home staying awake for another hour.
