lawmummy

For the most part, I like Ikea.  I used to think they were also kid-friendly (you know, changing tables, family restrooms, etc.).  Until today.

We packed the family into the car today to run errands.  Katie was excited to see that we were stopping at Ikea because she likes to play in their kid area.  Amy was not yet potty-trained last time we made an Ikea run, so she wasn’t allowed to play with Katie.  Fair enough.

But this time, Amy was potty-trained and excited to be able to play with her sister.

We took shoes off and filled out the card.  And then the sullen chick behind the counter - who I’m not so sure should be working with children to begin with - barks at me that Amy isn’t tall enough.  She yells at us across the counter that Amy needs to stand at the “height line.”

You have to understand that there are two “height lines” at Ikea - one, flat against a wall with a crude hand drawn line and the other, drawn into a curved wood board.

Amy, of course, leans backwards into the board, shrinks down and looks much too small.  We had just tried her against the flat wall and she looked fine to us there (Chris insisted that we try before we get to the counter).  I also happened to have her at the doctor’s office in January - months before her surgery - and she was 36″ then.  The Ikea line was 37″ so I was confident that she was fine.

We explain to Sullen Worker that Amy is not standing up straight because of the curve (it’s kind of like a “C” - some genius dreamed up that as a good idea).  Sullen Worker says shortly “She’s too small.  She can’t play.”

Amy starts to cry.

I try to explain that we tried her at the other height line against the wall and that she looked fine.  Sullen Worker won’t budge her chubby butt from her perch and asks if I want a manager.  I say yes.

The manager, Claudette, who is inexplicably in Customer Service, arrives and tells me that Amy is too small to enter the playland.  She puts her up against the flat height line and she appears about 1/4-1/2″ too short (without shoes).  Maybe.

Claudette says that she can’t go in, it’s policy.

I say, “She’s potty trained.  And she’s three.  She’s petite for her age.  And I think that she’s really 37″ anyway.  Your line is terrible.”

Claudette admits that she doesn’t know who hand drew the line on the wall, but says that, to her, it doesn’t look like Amy reaches the arrow.  Again, we’re talking maybe 1/4″.

Amy is crying because, in addition to understanding that she can’t go play, she’s now been told about a hundred times in the most unpleasant manner possible that she’s too little.  And Katie starts crying.

There is no one else around.  There is not a crowd waiting to get in.  Ikea has just opened.  Claudette is being a bitch.

I tell her that I can’t believe that she won’t let the children in.  She says it’s policy.

Have you seen the people working in the playland at Ikea?  Not rocket scientists.  Policy, my ass.

So I ask, the policy is for what reason?  Claudette says simply “the equipment.”

Hmm.  Last time, Katie sat at a kids’ table (that Ikea was happy to sell us), colored on paper (that we also have at the house) and watched TV.  What equipment?  Oh right.  There are some balls to play in - the same balls that you can play in upstairs without regard to height.  It’s bullshit.  This is not a ride at an amusement park that relies upon height and weight restrictions.  It’s a freaking room with a TV and a couple of tables.

And smug Claudette tells me that she’s really sorry but that Amy can’t go in.  And she starts to walk away from us.  Chris is trying to put the girls’ shoes back on.  Sullen Worker is staring blankly from her window.

So we left without buying anything.

Yes, it was stupid.  And I shouldn’t have gotten upset.

But there’s a way to handle things and Ikea - especially Claudette - clearly doesn’t have a grip on this concept.  I used to work at GapKids.  I understand that working in customer service with children occasionally sucks.  But there’s a way that you do things and you use a little compassion and yes, Claudette, common sense, when dealing with kids.  If, in fact, there was a danger in letting Amy wander into your freaking Ikea wonderland with her sister to sit at your table and color, then I’d get it.  But there wasn’t.  And if there were an age restriction because of state law or concerns about watching the children, I’d get it.  But Claudette even admitted that if Charlie (who is nearly Amy’s size) were a little larger, she’d let him in.  It has ZERO to do with realistic safety concerns.  It’s a totally random number and the rules, I’m guessing, are enforced according to a combination of the collective moods of Sullen worker and super-manager Claudette.

I now officially hate Ikea.

July 8th, 2007 | Category: Lots to say | Subscribe to comments | Leave a comment | Trackback URL