Any old horse can rock. A rocking moose, on the other hand is considered a necessary Swedish import.
That reminds me of a story.
Once upon a time, two people went to a modern Swedish furniture store to get a crib. They shopped all afternoon, picking out crucial items like a weird squishy light-up person thing, and a tiny red chair for sitting and coloring. The crib box got stuck in the cart with the “soft green rug to go in the book teepee” and they went home.
Once there, the more patient of the two started to put it together. All was going well, until the last turn of the Allen key.
“Something seems…not right. Where’s the hole for the kid? Is this… This isn’t a crib, is it.”
“Nope. That would be a changing table.”
“I need a beer.”
And so, the crib is still at the store, the squishy light-up person lives on the unexpected changing table’s shelf, and the rocking moose, well the rocking moose will never tell.