Stalking around the house

My mum comes along and points out that it may be in line with the tiles,
but it's not actually centered above the shelfand the sink. We're talking about, ooh,
an inch and a half here, maximum. But the mirroris fixed and it's too late to move it bathroom mirror
.
So now my mother is stalking around the house huffing and puffing and slamming things around
and acting as the whole word is conspiring against her and the entire bathroom mirroris RUINED!!!,
and my dad, quite justifiably, is now avoiding her because he's pissed off that he did the job and she's still not happy bathroommirror
.
In my mum's defense, the mirror does look a bit odd. But FFS! It's a MIRROR!! I bet, I just bet (and I'm going on many years of past experience here)
 that this one tiny thing will escalate out of all control and will mean that neither of my parents will talk to each other for at least the rest of the bank holiday weekend bathroommirror
.
 Meaning that my brother and I will do what we always do, which is leave them to get on with it, and confine ourselves to our respective rooms knowing that to emerge just quite frankly won't be worth the effort. Well, joy bloody joy.
What great fun this is going to be bathroom mirror
. And they wonder why I am so desperate to get a place of my own. Yes - a great bloody mystery, that.