Småland and Stretching the Truth

The background: I have loved IKEA since I first visited it with my parents when it opened in Seattle.  It has the fun mix of organizational tools, interesting new items, and tasty treats that has the potential making of the perfect shopping experience for me.  

Then I became a parent:  And we depended on IKEA to make this baby thing affordable.   The Sniglar crib (which I treated with the mineral oil sold for protecting wooden cutting boards) and a nice little crib mattress came to the rescue.  Best of all furniture was low profile, which was critical in the baby's tiny bedroom.  With a baby and then eventually a toddler, trips to IKEA were enjoyable.  She loved the Swedish yellow pea soup.

Then she hit 37" and I became a liar:  And the Småland Play Area - the holy grail of IKEA for children - opened its doors to us.  The ball pit that my child had eyed for over a year was finally available to her...as long as Mommy was willing to bend the truth.  Here's the deal, my kid is pretty much potty trained (except for the whole pooping once a day never in the toilet thing).  The problem is, "pretty much" doesn't cut it if you're 20 minutes from home and have an accident in the car seat, the restaurant, or the beloved ball pit.  While she sometimes wears proper training pants at home, she mostly wears pull-ups when we go out.  Now, when you check a small child into Småland, the first thing they do is measure them (and goodness they must be clearly 37" tall).  The second thing they do is ask to ensure that your child is not wearing diapers or pull-ups.  I get it.  They need to keep a clean play area.  They don't want to deal with the potential leak of bodily fluids.  In my world, the pull-up is our extra insurance policy that they won't have to.  

Mommy is a liar, but the wee one is oblivious: This morning we arrived at our local IKEA 20 minutes before opening to ensure we'd have a spot in Småland.  A friend of ours who has 3 small children met us there.  Today I yet again answered the question in a way that stretches the truth...because the reality of my life at this point in the process is that those pull-ups she was wearing (concealed beneath carefully selected outfits) are akin to disposable training pants.  The consequence of my actions: AN HOUR of mommy time, when we three happy moms could sip an inexpensive beverage while browsing in peace, followed by a delightful lunch with 4 happy (tired) children.  When we left, the pull-up was still dry.

A related thought: I wonder if the people checking children into Småland have every had someone answer the question by inquiring about her/his undergarments.