I, Kea

I make my first trip to the big box since becoming a homeowner.

I pity the 31st Century archeologist who comes across this at the tip.

I used to go to Ikea regularly in New York. The one in Redhook. I would hike the shoppable miles with the woman who would become my wife, picking up clothes hangers, cups, bedding and other nick-knacks to adorn our rented apartment. To make it feel like home.

Now, we have a home and the stakes are different. We’re going to put in a new kitchen that will affect the look and feel of our domestic lives for some time. It will probably increase the value of our house.

Can’t fuck it up.

Ikea wasn’t our first or easiest choice. Howden’s, Wrens and at least a dozen other companies that specialize in kitchens have showrooms within a few minutes drive of my house.

Remarkably, due to combinations and permutations of range, materials, prices and presentation, each and every one of the more convenient options alienated us. The only answer was to park the kids with i…