Happy families.

I'm feeling pretty annoyed at the moment because i've had a sizable argument with my parents, as my mother put it, "you've created a tsunami through this house tonight." Exaggeration? It's quite possible. Given that my family has spent the past week going to the cricket, going to Jamberoo, visiting Canberra, going Ten-Pin Bowling etc while I've been working an 8-5pm job, it might seem reasonable that I feel some slight resentment towards them when they turn around and complain that they "haven't really had much of a holiday." But no more boring you with my private family bickering.

That's what happens when one moves from living in either share accommodation - or away from home in some other capacity - to being back at home. Whether it be because one can't afford to live elsewhere, they need to save up money, or Uni ends for the year and one is faced with the dilemma of how to spend their three month Uni break, living back at home is sometimes necessary, and can be nice. For the first two, maybe three days. Then the old niggling annoyances creep their way back into home life and you quickly lose your 'how good is living with the folks' amnesia.

Sure, there are perks. It can be nice eating a meal as a family, or going kayaking all together, as we did last weekend. It is even enjoyable chilling in front of the television together. That is, if everyone can agree on watching the same program.

I have found it challenging, particularly at the age of 20, to try and conform to the expectations my parents have of me whilst living in their house. More than once they've pulled the "We could make you pay rent here you know?"

Fortunately I have my own car, but other parents I know - and up until I owned a car, I was subjected to this as well - like to announce that "I can just confiscate my car from you right now, you know?" Great. This leaves many young people with absolutely no freedom at home, and similarly little ability to escape one's stifling home environment using public transport because, let's face it, travelling on the Northern Beaches' poorly organised public transport network is never that successful.

Perhaps I should enjoy what is left of living at home while it lasts, after all, in a few years' time (and hopefully after I finish university at the end of this year), I'll be able to travel, gain employment, move out for good, and look fondly back on the years I had growing up in my family house. But until then, I suppose it's a matter of putting up with the grievances of living in the parents' house, and bite my tongue as much as possible, in order to avoid creating ripples, or "tsunamis" as my Mum so subtly puts it.