Today the sun dawned bright over the cold and glittering frost of the good lady's libido. Outside it was frosty too.

We had decided to go to Ikea, where the evil Lord of Mazes dwells. The good lady had stated that we needed a Unit for our daughter's bedroom.

What kind of unit?

I had foolishly asked.

She had drawn me a weary look. One which spoke volumes of the ineptitudes of men and their donglers.

A unit for storing things in.

She had stated tiredly as if I were a dog that was doing that skiing thing with its bottom quarters over her freshly cleaned carpet.

Of course, yes. A storage thing. It shall be done.

So, after a mere twenty minutes of scraping and bashing ice from the car with much pretend joyous whistling. We were ready to go.

Once inside we drew lots as to who would brave the furniture catacombs. At that point, the little boom started flailing about in terror and anguish at the thought of being lost in that hellhole again.

The good lady looked over fearfully at the dimly lit entrance.

It's no use, he needs feeding. You will have to go Daddy-Bear.

I too looked at the foreboding dark hole that led into the furniture hall. In the dim light of the entrance, I thought I saw a bed peek out menacingly.

What? Go in there alone? But...

It was no use. The little boom was already on the boob making angry smacking sounds with his lips and kneading the doughy baps with clenched fists as if the milk on offer displeased him mightily.

Alright then. A storage unit for the little lady's room.

I sighed.

I took a few steps forward and stopped to look over my shoulder at my sweet family.

If I don't make it, well, don't pine forever lass. Meet someone, be happy. However pale a shadow that someone may cast in the light of my memory.

She nodded.

Don't buy any tat on the way out like you usually do.

She called out before glueing herself to her phone.

I turned back to face the soul-sucking, infernal twisted labyrinth that was the furniture hall. Somewhere inside I thought I heard the angry roar of a Chest of Drawers.

I shook my head, tat indeed. I would be lucky to make it out alive and if I did, she would begrudge me some tealight candles and some storage jars? There were no depths to that woman's contempt for my mannity. Well, alright then. This time I would buy nothing but the unit.

Some forty minutes later I staggered out, a trolly with a big box of self-assemble unit-age trundling before me.

The good lady stood up, the little boom sound asleep in her arms. She smiled with relief to see me escape the labyrinth successfully. Her eyes skipped down to the trolley I pushed wearily before me.

Her smile ebbed away.

Couldn't resist yourself eh?

I looked guiltily down at the trolley and the assorted things piled on top of it. Pride of place among a selection of jars, kitchen utensils, a small cactus and some picture frames was a pack of fifty tealight candles.

I grinned madly as if chewing a stick.

Oops!