Something of a very grave nature happend and I think my tail-up days will end soom.
Oh, maybe already...
Here was how it went:
In a nutshell, I swapped the dressing table and the night-stand. But it was an act of severe repercussions...
One her way to the new position, the dressing table generously left a nasty scar that clearly suggests the route she'd taken (btw, very straight&steady). Only after the swapping completed and damage done, I lift up my brainless triangle head and was stupified by the fact that the dressing table blocked, right in the middle, the calligraphy board on the wall --- the top important culture indicator in the household. So it looked the dressing table mirror (vertical) was "winged" by the unblocked parts of the calligraphy (horizontal) with "大江东去,浪" on the left and "尊还酹江月" on the right. More disastrously, this becomes the FIRST thing anyone can see when he opens the door. Man.. the sight couldn't be more visually assertive..
Without a doubt, it took no time for my Mom to start a roar immediately she stepped in. She said a hell lot of stuff. Besides the rediculousness of the new arrangement (if I can all it an "arrangement") and the floor damaging, my Mom brought the argument to a higher level. She said I had absolute NO RIGHTS to move the furniture without consulting with the people who actually LIVE here. She said my behaviour, in a contemporary sense, boarders on HUMAN RIGHTS ABUSE. Then to wind the arguement to a more personal scope, she said if somebody did this to my apartment, I surely would jump up and chop up the intruder to bloody pieces with tons of bitter words but look what I did to others. On this point, I think the exact key words she used was, "double standards". All the time I cast my head down and knew good enough to shut up at this unadvantageous moment. And I never knew she was such a good debator.
My dad was much less intense during the entire court trial but clearly, this man was not a big fan of me. Under such cirumstances I understood he couldn't be very supportive of his child. I didn't blame him. I secretly asked him if my days were over here. My Dad gave me a bitter smile and asked in return, kid why don't you go and clean the toilet. I felt completely busted. What shall I do? Shall I run or run or run? Uh!
Everytime I thought I could do better and re-earn a good name for myself in my town so I could always wip my tails up and enjoy the exemption from housework when I'm back. And everytime something just sort of happend and my already-not-firm status was lost. Everytime I thought maybe I was able to come and go with honour and everytime some stupid accident screwed all my chances. WHY!?
Flora, I do NOT take "rpwt" as an answer! You go hell.
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