Rather than spending quarantine in London, with my boyfriend and flatmates, I somehow, accidentally, ended up back in Kent, isolating at home with my mum, dad and three siblings. I was slightly apprehensive about coming home, partly because I had left a rather large bottle of gin and all of my skincare products back at the flat, but also because, my family are not exactly ‘typical.’
From a drug smuggling uncle who only has 9 and a half fingers, to sister who describes herself as ‘pre-famous’, it’s fair to say there are some rather large characters around and, having grown accustomed to my quiet and functional life in London, I was a little nervous about re-joining the raucous ranks.
But, in a wild turn of events, I actually like my family more now that I’m having to spend quarantine with them. That’s not to say they aren’t all unbelievably annoying, because they are; they each have a unique and infuriating set of strange habits which never fail to get on my nerves…
My dad has a disturbingly controlling approach to the weekly food shop; he won’t let anyone add anything he doesn’t personally approve of. (I have been reprimanded on more than one occasion for trying to acquire a melon.) He insists on adminning housework as though he’s in an office; he refers to people as members of ‘my team’ and asks if emptying the bin is ‘on your radar.’ He likes to sit directly in-front of the fridge from about 1-3pm every day, despite this being the obvious time period for people to make their lunch, and then he gets unimaginably annoyed when people ask him to move.
My older brother is the type of person who will kick any round object at you while you’re trying to make a cup of tea or sitting peacefully on a sofa. He always has to be right. He will often check whether you want something, like the Kit-Kat, and if you do, he’ll then eat it in front of your face with a gleeful smile. He is currently growing an offensive moustache.
My younger brother exists in a cloud of pungent, mint flavoured vape smoke, which he often blows into my face or my drink, or whatever surface I’m working on for no apparent reason. He now shouts ‘Carole Baskin’ loudly, regularly and with absolutely no prompt or encouragement to do so. He constantly orders pointless shit off Amazon and then spends 45 minutes making you taste it, try it on, perhaps buy one yourself – it’s like he’s working on commission. He does not understand the concept of personal space and will inevitably stand half an inch from you at any given time. He is always trying to show me a funny meme.
My mother is an interferer; she simply cannot help herself from looking over your shoulder or pointing out where something is wrong, even if it isn’t finished. She is constantly on some strange health-kick-craze and smugly swanning about with some weird green-chia-juice-thing. She never remembers whether she’s told you something or not, so you’re likely to be informed 18 times that she needs you to help her with her Instagram or empty the dishwasher.
Spending quarantine with my family has given me the opportunity to notice every single annoying habit they have. But, having to spend all of the time I’d usually spend with my friends, stuck at home with them, means I’ve had the chance to become friends with my family as well. Now, we go for dog walks together. We play catch in the garden. We offer drinks to one another. We do pub quizzes together. We play cards together. We watch TV together. We talk to each other a lot more. It’s nice.
I’ve just finished reading John Powell’s ‘The Secret to Staying in Love’ and, to save you a dense read and several hours of your time, I’ll tell you what the secret is: dialogue. Freely talking to people about your life and emotions is apparently the way to ensure longevity to any relationship. And lockdown, for all of its inconveniences, is forcing us to have dialogue, to talk to the people we’re isolating with far more regularly than we usually would.
While quarantine and Coronavirus are unideal for our social lives and aspirations for a pint at the pub in the sunshine, they seem to be quite good for family relationships. When was the last time you spent 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, with the people you’re now stuck with? Probably not since you were a small child and, since then, it’s fair to assume that a lot has changed in all of your lives. Quarantine, for all of its faults, is an interesting opportunity for us to reconnect with the people in our households and probably one we won’t ever get in the same way again.
Holly Platt-Higgins
Featured image courtesy of Unsplash.
