Home Alone V

Now, let me say straight away that I quite like IKEA.  Of course there have been some unpalatable revelations, and in particular that its founder Ingvar Kamprad was an active member of the Swedish Nazi party during WWII, and later that it used the forced labour of political prisoners in pre-unification East Germany.  But every family has its little ways, and when I needed some storage boxes for the contents of furniture that was about to be wheeled out of the door, I thought of their local store.  And sure enough, they had boxes that were just right. Except for one thing.

boxOn lids of the boxes, there is a huge sticker warning of the suffocation hazard that would associated with putting a baby in the box and shutting the lid.

Now, there are a number of reasons why I do not need to be told this:

  • I do not have any babies. I have four children, all of whom successfully navigated infancy without being suffocated in boxes, and they are all now far too big to fit in the box anyway;
  • Even if I did have a baby, I would not put it in the box;
  • Even if I did have a baby, and put it in the box (we are, as you can see, getting really quite far-fetched here), I would not put the lid on the box;
  • If, in an aberrant moment, all these things were to happen, I would promptly take the lid off the box;
  • And retracing our steps for just a moment, there is no room to put a baby in the box anyway, because the boxes are full of the stuff that, until very recently, was in the drawers of the furniture that has just been wheeled out of the door.

The label is really quite insistent about the point.  It provides the warning in English. Then in French. Then in Spanish.  Then in German. Then in Dutch.  Then in Danish. Then in Norwegian. And then in about two dozen other languages.  I do not need to be told about the baby in the box thing in any of these languages.

So I decided to pull it off. No go. I tried soap and water.  Wouldn’t budge.  I tried soaking it in the spa overnight (it is too big for the sink) but it still would not come off.  It is as though the bloody thing has been welded on! WTF!

Having wasted quite a bit of time fruitless trying to get these stupid labels off, I am starting to think maybe I could

  • Adopt a baby;
  • Put the baby in the box;
  • Put the lid on the box;
  • Leave it there until the baby has suffocated.
  • In fact, I am just about prepared to tip the contents of one of these boxes all over the drawing room carpet, just to make room for the baby.

Ha! That would go to show these people that their stupid label on the boxes are not going to stop people putting their babies in the boxes.  In fact there are probably people in Britain, France, Spain, Germany, Holland, Denmark, Norway and about two dozen other countries who would never have even dreamt of putting their baby in the box if it the idea were not put into their heads by the stupid label.






Filed under News from at home

2 responses to “Home Alone V

  1. Philip FE

    There is of course the case of the unsolved mystery surrounding the MI5 agent found suffocated in his gym bag . Had there been an unremoveable label on it warning of the dangers of being zipped up in ones bag – thrilling as the prospect of that is and suffocating – his death may have been avoided . It was rather silly of whoever it was to pop him inside – zip him up and leave him in the bath – all of which could have been avoided with a sensible label warning of the dangers . Equally if the offices of MI5 had had a large label on the front door warning of the dangers of being employed there in the first place his death might have avoided on that account too . So you could argue we do not have nearly enough lables and that why stop warning for instance of suffocating your baby in a storage box when the dangers of leaving your dog in one are ignored . That is vastly unfair on the hazards facing millions of dogs whose potential fate is liable to a end on a sticky wicket – in storage box – in suffocatingly hot Adelaide . And wickets – they should have safety labels on them too – after all it would be so easy to innocently land on one and err end one’s story on a just that …..

  2. I have had this from a reader in Nepal. The English is a little curious: I suspect that an on-line translation app may have used:

    Cherished Robert,
    You are so love-making right about these IKEA boxes. I was dialoguing with my queen this day, and our talk ran thither:
    ME: May the blessings of all the heavens be you this day!
    WIFE: And may the proudness of all flags stiffen your manhood!
    ME: Let us procreate!
    WIFE: No. I have a head pain today. Think of something other.
    ME: What akin to? Perambulate our mountain dog?
    WIFE: Not in this internal female organ chilling blizzard! I know nothing.
    ME: But lo! Hither lies an idea. Let us move our baby next generation into the new IKEA box!
    WIFE: Why the defecation would we do that?
    ME: A label lies on the lid of the box. Stating that in many kingdoms, baby of next generation will choke. But I wager not in Nepal! We rear our young goats to be stronger than other kingdoms!
    WIFE: Allow me to observe this … No, you porcine excrement heir of a she-wolf – the only why they do not say that in Nepalese is that they do not care for us in Nepal.
    ME: Oh, why not, I bend my knee? They have all other kingdoms represented on the label. We are a nation of warriors!
    WIFE: Reason being, the earth only cares for kingdoms that are frequently subject to invasion. As France, which always she is invaded. The drums beat daily for France. But Nepal stands too proud for invasion. So none bothers.
    ME: The reason why label has French beware, the she-poodle of my loin’s wishes, is that French babies are weak. That is why many invasions trouble their history. Our lower calf nibbler would prosper in the box.
    WIFE: Be not unwise, you under-achieving special care unit resident. She would die as any other!
    ME: I predict otherwise.
    WIFE: Would you place your genitals on the anvil in proof?
    ME: I so declare, as a Ghurka whose father was a Ghurka whose father was a Ghurka whose father was a Ghurka whose father was a Ghurka whose father was a Ghurka.
    In the aftermath of our dialogue, we placed our sole baby in the box and sealed the lid. Happy fortune did not accompany our experimentation. Tiny child had concealed within her diaper her kukri handed to her by her ancestors. While wife and I chuckled aside, she cut her way out of box, and before I was aware, she had my marriage fishing equipment exposed and in a dangerous state. I will not say what warning she gave to us, and in what language, for it was words inapt for one so tender in years.
    Anyway, the box is now exclamation associated with ejaculation useless, what with large daily motion hole in its side.
    Keep up the splendid efforts of your blog!
    Posta Man Tated

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