The north side of East Maple Street
With shrubs along fence row,
Past the stately iron fence
And ornate gazebo --
On state’s historic register,
Our family’s place of dwelling --
A grand Victorian lady—
Her entryway compelling.
Generations of our family,
Sheltered as we played,
Granddad carved initials on the
Residing just across the street—
Our closest friends in town,
Their cute chalet was painted cream
With accent trim of brown.
Our families were participants
On a television show,
A program titled Swapping Rooms,
A revamp scenario.
We each could spend five hundred bucks
And work inside one day.
So we transformed the kitchen of
Their brown and cream chalet.
For their renovation, we had
Dining chairs slip-covered,
Then we hammered, sawed, and painted,
Put new hardware on each cupboard.
To match the color of the wall
Were saffron-colored flowers
Sewed upon each curtain.
We labored many hours.
As cameras rolled, with microphones,
There came the big reveal.
They loved the yellow blossoms
And the comfy-home appeal.
While cameras kept on rolling
I tossed away concern—
Excitement o’er what ‘waited us
Upon our home-return.
The room they chose to renovate—
Our bathroom off the hall.
My jaw dropped when my eyes caught sight—
A moose head on the wall!
The head was stuffed and mounted
Above the room’s commode,
With eyes that followed you about
This room in our abode.
An up-flip on the light switch
Revealed a disco ball
Rotating on the ceiling making
Lights dance ‘round the wall.
A coin slot-box had been installed
Just below the moose.
To flush we have to feed it dimes—
Then the hostess touted benefits and
‘Bout the combination soap-dispenser-
The latest in appliances,
A must for each gourmet,
To shave while looking in the mirror
And whip up a latte.
There is no joy on Maple Street
Our thoughts are now hostile.
Since neighbors from the cream chalet
Profaned our domicile.
And now I’m in hot water
O’er this remodeling crime,
I had my morning latte
And I don’t have a dime.
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