Last weekend, we had to go to Ikea to buy Mac a big-kid bed. He started climbing out of his crib awhile ago, and so we have no choice.

I was happy for the excuse to go to Ikea because I had some crap in my trunk to return. One of things was a chair that would not put together no matter what. The other thing was a light we decided was kind of ugly. I bought these things in August, and they've been in my trunk ever since. I figured if they wouldn't give me a refund, they'd probably at least take the junk.

I told Dan this story on the way in, and he was preemptively embarrassed about my plan to return this nine month-old crap. We'd both read the signs proclaiming a 90-day return policy.

"Hi!" I smiled cheerfully at the return clerk. "I bought this stuff WAY more than 90 days ago."

"I'll just be over here," Dan said, laughing openly. I had started unloading chair pieces onto the counter, scooping dusty screws into the open palms of the clerk. And he had abandoned me, let the record show.

Five minutes later, I learned that Ikea would give me $42.00 in store credit for the crap from my trunk.

"Oh my god!" I said to the clerk. "I love Ikea!"

"That's our goal," she smiled.

"Well, you're doing a really good job," I told her.

And then we paid for a third of Mac's new bed and mattress with the little return card given to me by that clerk.

God bless America. And Sweden. Obviously.