Interior Kitchen Design - What went wrong?

You would have to understand what the kitchen of our new house looked like before you could really see how our problems started. We purchased a 1980's Colonial, and it was a design masterpiece. It had a sprawling floor plan with a monstrous living room, four bedrooms - even included an office for my husband - and it actually had a cement in-ground swimming pool. The only problem was that puny kitchen.

It, the kitchen that is, looked as if the draftsman forgot to include it in his initial plan for the home. I have no doubt that a man designed our kitchen, and I couldn't imagine any interior designer was consulted to even offer suggestions. I guess the only way I can really explain how small the kitchen space would be to say that if I opened the 'frig door, I could then face to my left and control the oven and sink at the same time.

My husband was told that a cousin's friend's wife's brother's (well, you get the picture) had just opened an interior design business, and he would be excited to have us as one of his first clients. Well, we figured he might be family somehow so it would probably be best for us to support him. He took one look at our baby kitchen and laughed so hard he cried. He promised us that he would design a kitchen Martha Stewart would envy.

And then the stampede hit us. There were construction workers, painters, plumbers and electricians practically living on our property. The front yard was littered with tire tracks and grooves from the bulldozer that came to break down part of the kitchen wall. Our interior designer told us this was all a part of his "master plan," and I, for some reason, forced my husband to quiet any complaint and trust our cousin's judgment.

So now I of course know better than to trust just any old person who confesses to be a professional interior designer. And I certainly will not let anyone near my kitchen without showing proof of his license. What did he do to our kitchen you ask? Well, the truth is that now we don't even have a kitchen. Instead, courtesy of the man who scammed us into believing he was an interior designer, we have a new walkway.

We have a new walkway that begins in the side of our house and extends right through where our kitchen was located; yes, right through the interior. So now I can not stand in front of our old refrigerator and scramble eggs while I wash dishes, and while I will not miss the dish washing too much, I am certainly tired of every meal being take-out.