Blog 11-Samantha Rhynard
My parents have decided that since I am going to be home for the foreseeable future, they want to make some renovation-style changes to my room, specifically to my desk area. While this overall seems like a good idea, there is a lot of backstory and nuances that factor into exactly what has been happening in this process. See, there is nothing easy about renovating anything, but this is a special circumstance.
To get to where we are now, we have to start several months ago, while I was away with NUin Greece. My parents and I would face-time me once a week. They would keep me apprised of what happened with them and the house while I was gone, and I would tell them of my exploits in Greece. In probably mid-October, they offhandedly mentioned that Mia—my cat—had brought a mouse into my room, and it had gotten trapped behind the built-in cabinets that occupy a wall of my room. My parents told me that there was no way they could get it out of there, so they were going to wait a while for it to come out, and deal with it then. It seemed reasonable enough at the time, so I didn't say anything. Thinking back, one of the main phrases the responsible adults of Greece told us was that if it seems like a good idea at the time, it probably isn't.
So a few weeks later when I was talking to my parents, I mentioned the mouse, as it popped into my head. I don't know what I was expecting, but their response was somewhere along the lines of oh well your room started to smell, so we figured it had died behind the cabinets, and so we just closed the door. Understandably, I was significantly confused, and very surprised. Usually my parents are very logical people, and we have had Mia bring us a variety of small critters before—I've even helped herd a live chipmunk out of our house in Massachusetts. But this, to me, seemed completely outrageous. It died, so you're just going to leave it there, and hope the smell goes away? The funniest part retrospectively is that my parents didn't see why I had a problem with this. So after several weeks of me semi-subtly making fun of them for leaving a dead animal in my room to rot, they told me their plan was to take out the cabinets along that wall, and take out the dead mouse. The next time I talked to them, they had taken out the cabinets, but found nothing but a conspicuous hole in the wall. They told me they had shrugged, and just filled in the hole—I am still confused by this mentality, but that's a separate issue.
So I adjust back to living at home after Greece, and rearrange the furniture a tad to compensate for the space where there used to be cabinets.
I"ll continue this story next week, because there is more yet to say.
To get to where we are now, we have to start several months ago, while I was away with NUin Greece. My parents and I would face-time me once a week. They would keep me apprised of what happened with them and the house while I was gone, and I would tell them of my exploits in Greece. In probably mid-October, they offhandedly mentioned that Mia—my cat—had brought a mouse into my room, and it had gotten trapped behind the built-in cabinets that occupy a wall of my room. My parents told me that there was no way they could get it out of there, so they were going to wait a while for it to come out, and deal with it then. It seemed reasonable enough at the time, so I didn't say anything. Thinking back, one of the main phrases the responsible adults of Greece told us was that if it seems like a good idea at the time, it probably isn't.
So a few weeks later when I was talking to my parents, I mentioned the mouse, as it popped into my head. I don't know what I was expecting, but their response was somewhere along the lines of oh well your room started to smell, so we figured it had died behind the cabinets, and so we just closed the door. Understandably, I was significantly confused, and very surprised. Usually my parents are very logical people, and we have had Mia bring us a variety of small critters before—I've even helped herd a live chipmunk out of our house in Massachusetts. But this, to me, seemed completely outrageous. It died, so you're just going to leave it there, and hope the smell goes away? The funniest part retrospectively is that my parents didn't see why I had a problem with this. So after several weeks of me semi-subtly making fun of them for leaving a dead animal in my room to rot, they told me their plan was to take out the cabinets along that wall, and take out the dead mouse. The next time I talked to them, they had taken out the cabinets, but found nothing but a conspicuous hole in the wall. They told me they had shrugged, and just filled in the hole—I am still confused by this mentality, but that's a separate issue.
So I adjust back to living at home after Greece, and rearrange the furniture a tad to compensate for the space where there used to be cabinets.
I"ll continue this story next week, because there is more yet to say.
Wow, I would be furious. I understand your frustration. I would've wanted it gone right away. I hope that this story ends well, I'm excited to hear about the rest of the story next week.
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