I heard a blood curdling scream coming from the kitchen. I grabbed the baseball bat by the front door and raced in there. I didn’t expect to see my mother standing their exclaiming over the kitchen units in my new house. I looked around hurriedly for the axe murderer who must have just escaped through the back door or even at the tiny little mouse that had just danced it’s jaunty way across the kitchen. There was no sign of either. She was so thrilled to see the new, gleaming stove, grill and refrigerator that had been built into the units around the door that also made the most of my space and opened up the kitchen into a pleasant space to work and dine, that she couldn’t help but scream. I dropped the bat on the new floor and she screamed again, this time because she thought I would scratch the floor.