Småland Syndrome

Popular Swedish retailer Ikea offers loads of benefits to its customers, including free use of Småland, a child prison parents can use to not be bothered by their progeny while shopping at the massive store. But what happens when parents are unable to retrieve their child from the ball-pitted, magical forest-themed hellhole? Well, one family has found out the hard way.

The Hawthornes are a middle class family from the greater Des Moines area who decided to spend a Saturday munching on Ikea's famous meatballs, walking the store's labyrinthine showroom path, and messing with all the clever gadgets in the market hall. Part of the journey, however, was dropping the youngest Hawthorne, seven-year-old Breckin, at the store's free temporary babysitting facility known as Småland.

“I can still relive that day pretty clearly in my mind,” says Gina Hawthorne, Breckin’s mother. “We had lunch and then dropped Breckin off since he tended to be fussy when we shopped. I remember they were playing Toy Story on the television and thinking he'd like that. Though now I wish we just dragged him along with us.”

“He was always such a little pain when we were out,” says Addison, Breckin’s thirteen-year-old sister, with a little laugh that clearly masks the sadness.

The Hawthornes finished a lap around the showroom, spending possibly a little too much picking out a trundle bed for Breckin's room, and intended to retrieve their son so he could pick out a stuffie to take home with him.

“They have one that's like a bunny dressed as an astronaut that I thought was pretty cute,” says Gina, “though he'd probably want the t-rex or the python.”

But an astronaut bunny wasn't the only thing they wouldn't be coming home with the Hawthornes that day.

“We went back to Småland to get him,” says Gina, “but we couldn't find the claim ticket they gave us when we dropped him off.”

“I blame myself,” says Breckin's father Richard. “I was the one who was supposed to be holding the ticket.”

The Hawthornes retraced their steps and searched every inch of the store they had visited; every sofa they sat on, every knickknack they fondled, and every bathroom stall they used; right up until closing time, all to no avail.

“The law is pretty clear on this,” says Ikea manager Jeff Rahm. “Any kid remaining in our store at the close of the business day legally belongs to Ikea. It’s an unfortunate situation, but that’s just the law in Iowa. Were this to happen somewhere like California or Massachusetts we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

It’s true that the Retail Industry Leaders Association (RILA), to which Ikea is a member despite it being glaringly antithetical to their stated values, successfully lobbied the Iowa state legislature to make it legal for corporations to own any children left in their store after closing time. But couldn’t the manager just be cool and look the other way this one time?

“True, nobody would know if we just said ‘whoops, here’s your kid back!’,” says Rahm, “but we’re really short-staffed on overnight stockers at the moment, so we decided to hold on to little Breckin.”

That was all months ago, and since returning to the store we’ve found that Breckin Hawthorne has been quite an asset to the stockers, winning the store’s Employee of the Month award and being featured on the retailer’s internal Movers and Shakers newsletter.

“We love having Breckin on the team,” says shift supervisor Victoria Lacey. “He’s got more energy than the next four guys combined and doesn’t have any trouble getting stock onto those low bottom shelves.”

“It was weird having a kid working with us,” says stocker Kit Cutrona. “He didn’t even get the jokes when I ask him to come over and help me move the ligma or lift the bofa. But he does love stupid puns based on product names, so I just do those now.”

“Breckin had a little trouble in the beginning,” says logistics manager Kiva Shean, “with insisting he was entitled to a nap or juice box any time he wanted it, but he had to learn he was here to work and not watch Paw Patrol in feetie pajamas. A few long shifts and we sweat that notion right out of him. Kid’s a rock star now!”

We decided to hang around long enough to catch little Breckin during his 4am cigarette break on a bench just outside the loading the dock, the only time management would allow him to take time off the floor to speak with us.

“I don’t got a lot of time,” says Breckin as he takes a drag from an unfiltered Camel. “Truck’s heavy as fuck today and I can’t be screwin’ around if we wanna get everything out.”

We asked how he liked being owned by Ikea and being forced to spend his childhood working there.

“Yeah, it’s alright I guess,” he tells us. “Mommy and Daddy and what’s-her-name come shopping every once in a while and say hi. I got a little bed up in the showroom, and since we work over night I’m usually up and about before the boogie man’s awake, so I don’t have to worry about that anymore.”

But do you feel, we ask, if the Iowa state legislature has failed you, robbed you of your childhood, by allowing you to become corporate property?

“Listen, pal,” says Breckin, “I’m sposed’ta shelf-out sixteen multipacks in home storage and then drag about eight pallets of dishes across this friggin’ store, and if we’re not done by opening time I’m gonna get reamed out by that booger-eating manager again. Okay, bye bye!”

While Breckin didn’t have time to answer all my questions, management assures us that he’s doing just fine being away from his family and school.

“This kid’s gonna be alright,” says store manager Jeff Rahm. “He’s learning skills like basic math and spatial reasoning. We should even have him forklift certified in a month or two. If he plays his cards right he can have a long career with Ikea. And at fifteen dollars an hour he’s got plenty of money for food from our restaurant and whatever else kids need money for. We’d even consider letting him cover sales shifts if Iowa would just go ahead and do away with those overtime laws already!”

While the Hawthornes count the days until Breckin’s sixteenth birthday, when he’d be legally allowed to resign from Ikea (the state of Iowa doesn’t trust that kind of decision to children), it looks like the young boy is stuck stocking shelves for the time being.

Update:

At the time of publication, we checked back with Ikea Des Moines and found that Breckin Hawthorne has since been let go when he was overheard saying “Manager of logistics? More like Manager of pee pee and poo poo!” regarding his boss Kiva.

He has since returned home to his family, gone back to school, and is currently using nicotine gum to wean himself off cigarettes. He says, even after all this, that he’d still be willing to work for Ikea when he reaches the legal age to voluntarily work an overnight job when he turns thirteen.