IKEA handiwork down the generations

I wouldn’t have called this a fond memory until today. Back in July 2000 (yes 21 years ago) Dad and I spent a weekend buying and assembling IKEA furniture for a new house he had bought on 20 Sedlescombe Road, Fulham in London. Now a weekend assembling IKEA furniture isn’t most people’s idea of a good time and certainly for me whose hands, to put it generously, aren’t the most adept at fixing things (breaking things on the contrary comes naturally). However, Dad had bought this house, I was going to live in and manage it the following year rent free (big concession from Dad the investor) so I “bloody well had to help furnish the bloody thing”. Poor Dad probably secretly hoped this might get me interested in the property business (no chance). While I don’t have particularly vivid memories of that weekend – which reminds me of another of Dad’s favourite sayings “Mark the moment son. Take photos” – I do have a hazy recollection of it being rather fun. Yes, the furniture was crap and the house’s interior ended up with the colour coordination of a toddler left unattended with crayons, but we did something productive together and had a couple of laughs along the way. Guess the technical term for that is “bonding” though neither he nor I would call it that ever. I remembered that weekend with no little emotion today as I decided to introduce Arousaki to our family’s love affair with IKEA furniture. She may not have been thrilled initially, but when she got her hands on the machinery, the mood quickly improved. Thanks so much Dad for giving me this to pass on. Love you man.