Around Christmas time, my Younger Spawn became enamored and obsessed with stuffed sharks from IKEA. For the record, they are cuddly and adorable!
As time went on, I realized the the lack of IKEA sharks would haunt her. Worse yet, she would haunt me. Holding a grudge is a genetic predisposition. The depth of obsession went to the point where she stated that winning Powerball would mean being able to acquire the IKEA sharks. As in all of the IKEA sharks, anywhere in the world.
|Wants ALL of the freaking IKEA sharks. This is the look of madness.|
Obsession - coupled with eternal grudging - is not a good combination. Besides, all she has to do is make bunny eyes at me and I am utterly defenseless. I am a weak parental unit.
I remedied the situation last weekend and adopted a shark to surprise her. This is the journey of the IKEA shark.
|Once liberated, the shark took care of a seafood craving.|
|And found an exit. Did you know IKEA sharks can read? 36 in language on the ACT, but not so good with math.|
|Sharks love conveyors. Just sayin'.|
|And technology. IKEA sharks love technology!|
|Goodbye, IKEA store!|
|The poor Costco shoppers just had no idea ;-)|
|Um, pizza guy? Or perhaps 'Land Shark'.|
The fifteen-year-olds' face lit up like Christmas morning when she found the shark patiently
waiting in the back of the Volt. She'll have to find another excuse to make me miserable ;-)