SINCE THURSDAY NIGHT the roof of my house has struggled to withhold against the sound of my chaotic family. Relatives, friends (new and old), people coming and going like waves of the ocean tide. Cousins, Aunties, Uncles, Grandparents and siblings no one was left to spare.
Family and Guests coming from Italian, Greek, American and Ireland backgrounds. Four countries dwell somehow seemingly together.
I am never free, for the fumigated loud-mouthed mafia chaos is too thick to be extinguished. Thereâ€™s always another person asking for a towel, cup, chair or blanket. Thereâ€™s always four people asking and expecting for you to answer them all at once- no matter what the topic.
Every two minutes the kettle is boiling, in the process of consuming another tea, coffee or hot chocolate beverage. To think the world would be ending if a cuppa or biscuit for â€˜smokoâ€™ werenâ€™t present would be an understatement.
However if an escape route was available, I wouldnâ€™t take it.
I plead for attention from my mother as I have done since the days of diapers, piggy tails and pink frills.
â€œElly stop!â€ As she purses her lips together, stands like a soldier and puts a finger to her mouth in the attempt to â€˜shooshâ€™ me. â€œIâ€™m trying to talk to my mum,â€ she sternly says. My response, short, witty and quick, as per usual when company is present.
â€œAnd Iâ€™m trying to talk to mine!â€
We chuckle at how generations are similar. Itâ€™s hard to get a word in when this many people consume my house.
But I wouldnâ€™t want it any other way.
We search high and low for more chairs to occupy bottoms of the three people who are currently standing and eating.
Food replaced again that we thought would â€˜most definitelyâ€™ last for tomorrowâ€™s lunch.
We were wrong.
The TV set blaring the sounds of laughter from us as kids whilst we reminisce on old videotapes. Nostalgia is another addition to our large clan.
Suddenly the sound of the TV is overlapped by the resonance of my family. Noises erupt as though world war three has begun in our little Cooroy town.
No music, just human voices; mixing and jumbling.
Cats fleeing the stressful mayhem brought from the family arrival on Friday night.
Me fleeing the turmoil, Iâ€™m as stressed as the Cats are to get my assignment work done.
Most timesÂ there are only four bodies walking the floorboards ofÂ our Rinaldis house.
But now there are twenty and we could rise up a small army, Iâ€™m sure of it. Maybe world war three will occur in Cooroy after all.
But I wouldnâ€™t change anything at all.
People can be here everyday and I would still break a smile.
As long as food is on the table and hugs are shared, all is a peace.
I would sit on the floor just so it meant that our guests would have a place at the dinner table.
I would make my grandma a cup of tea every minute just so it meant that I would get to spend more time listening about her past.
Because, family is family, no matter what happens.
Just because, family is home.