the uncle, the bitch and the wardrobe

ma mere purchased an armoire during a very successful visit to the local resale furniture shop late last week. after arranging the delivery, which required only responding to a few phone calls in french, i thought my job was done. but no! the armoire in question is HUGE. solid (and veneered) walnut, mirrored doors, at least 9 feet high and 5 feet wide. two remarkable delivery men managed to bring it up the stairs in pieces and reassemble it without too much trouble, but i was the receipient of a rather drawn out french lecture on how the mirrored doors are too heavy so the entire piece must be anchored to the wall. he seemed quite concerned about that. ok, well, that's mom and berts deal. i'm outta here. next day: uncle bert, INSIDE the armoir, the top of it off, reaching behind to tighten the ropes that are threaded through the hooks that he sank into the plaster walls. here kate, hold the doors open and help us keep the whole thing from falling foward (not to mention completely apart, it was in need of gluing as well!) what?!?! i want no part of this! they are going to come in and find all three of us crushed under this massive thing! did i mention that in the meantime all of mom's clothes were on the bed in my room? miss ruby made a nest. no biggie, but now the thing has to be glued too? ok, so another half day of gluing up (2-3 trips to the hardware store i believe by this point) and straps around it to keep it tight. ok, that done, next the shelves go in...the warped, cracked, misfitted shelves get hammered, wedged and shoved in to place. ok, now, mom wants to be able to hang clothes in the top section. but there isn't a rod. after spending half the next day struggling with a 23euro aluminum shower rod that was too long, (i think the kitchen scissors i can no longer find may have fallen victim to a misguided attempt to cut the pole) mom managed to solve her dilema...with the mop handle! and people wonder why i prefer new furniture.