Squabbles and Gobbles: a good-natured Turkeyday tussle

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone! First and foremost, thanks to all who stuck with me throughout my thankful blogging project.

I’m reporting live from the leather couch in my parents’ familyroom, listening to the intermingled sounds of cooking and the Macy’s Thanksgiving-Day parade. I have much to be thankful for on this blessed, sunny, South Florida day, most important of which is the endless entertainment brought to me free-of-charge by my family. This year’s gem: the kitchen chronicles.

My parents have recently undertaken a major home re-modeling project, focused largely in their kitchen. In addition to a new set of granite-topped counters and cabinets, they’ve also acquired new kitchen appliances. When I arrived last night, mom dutifully gave me a tour of the kitchen; there’s nothing more disorienting to a blind person than having the house she grew up in entirely rearranged. Fortunately, with the exception of some cabinet items being relocated, much was the same as always…or so I thought.

This morning, I wandered into the kitchen, popped a muffin into the microwave, raised my hand to set the temperature, and paused; where once there had been braille stickers labeling each button, my fingers not brushed against a smooth, clean, and virtually unintelligible surface. Undaunted by this dilemma, I mock-stalked into the office, where my dad sat checking his e-mail.
“Excuse me,” I said, hands-on-hips, manufacturing an expression of severe disapproval while trying not to laugh. “I’d like to voice a complaint with this establishment. Your kitchen is inaccessible; it fails to comply with ADA standards.”
“Yes,” replied dad, not missing a beat. “And we intend to keep it that way.” Aha! At last! Beneath this kitchen re-modeling project lies an underhanded plot to discourage my visitation. I have found it out at last! (Disclaimer: I’m no longer in residence here, and this is my first visit since the new kitchen’s completion. If we deem it necessary, certainly I’ll be permitted to make the appliances accessible next time I visit. I don’t want anyone walking away with the impression that my family is unaccommodating).

Meanwhile, back in the kitchen, I sipped at my coffee and tried to construct a persuasive argument for bringing this kitchen up to code.

“I have a proposition for you,” I announced to my father. “If you want to settle this out-of-court, here’s the deal. I won’t file a complaint with management if you grant me unlimited access to the back bedroom, formerly known as my bedroom and now remodeled as a “guestroom”. Our negotiations have reached a stalemate; Dad refuses to budge, but I think a few white Russians and a turkey coma might make him see reason.

Happy Thanksgiving to all, and a joyful and blessed Christmas season!

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