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I was hunched over the kitchen table, three sheets of paper spread out, coffee gone cold, and my kid toddling between my knees on the cold linoleum. The quotes read like different languages: one said $40,000, another $75,000, and the third $110,000. The 1990s cabinet doors in front of me looked insulted. Outside, a sudden April rain tapped on the patio door — classic Brampton weather, all grey and damp — and I realized I had no idea what any of those numbers actually covere

I was hunched over the kitchen table, coffee gone cold, three contractor quotes spread out like different universes. One said forty thousand. One said eighty. One said a hundred and ten. The original 1990s cabinets stared back at me, the laminate edges swollen from years of tea pots and toddler fingerprints. Outside, a garbage truck rattled down my Brampton street and somewhere on the 410 a honk that sounded like somebody else's problem. I kept pinching the bridge of True