Can I get my own table from IKEA?
The packaging of IKEA is flat, which is convenient for you to carry. You can also deliver it to your door, but you have to pay more.
The table is the story of the table: his room is on the top floor of the apartment. He may be married and have children; Maybe I have lived in other cities before. To be sure, he once had a childhood, but at that time children dressed like adults, which can be seen in grandma's photo album. There are two chairs, a table, a carpet, a bed and a cupboard in his room. There is an alarm clock on the small table, some old newspapers and an album are piled up beside it, and a mirror and a picture are hung on the wall. The old man goes out for a walk every morning and once in the afternoon, chatting with his neighbors in a few words. Sit at the table at night. Every day is the same, and there has never been any change, and Sunday is no exception. Every time he sits at the table, he listens to the clock ticking endlessly. One day, it was a little special: the sun came out; The weather is lukewarm, the birds are chirping, everyone is amiable, and the children are playing games. In particular, the old man suddenly really liked all this. He has a smile on his face. "Everything will change now," he thought. He unbuttoned the first button of his shirt, took off his hat and held it in his hand, quickening his pace. He walked lightly and was in a happy mood. Go to your street, nod to the children, go to the door, climb the stairs, take out the key from your pocket and open the door. However, everything in the room remains the same: a table, two chairs and a bed. Hardly had he sat down when he heard the ticking again. The joy suddenly vanished, because nothing had changed. The old man flew into a rage. He saw in the mirror that he was blushing and his eyes narrowed into a crack. His hands twitched into fists, raised them, and slammed on the table. First, then, then, and then, he shouted, "Be sure to change, be sure to change!" Gradually I couldn't hear the alarm clock, my hands began to hurt, and my voice became hoarse, so I heard the ticking again, and nothing changed. "It will always be this table," said the old man. "These two chairs, this bed and this photo. I call this table a table, this picture a picture, and this bed a bed. This chair is called a chair. The French call the bed "Li", the table "cabinet", the painting "things" and the chair "Xie Si". What is the reason? They all understand each other. Similarly, people in China can understand each other when they speak.