GO TO YOUR ROOM

Every time my nephew comes down from Brisbane to the Gold Coast, my opening line when he arrives is ‘Go to your room.’ It’s a standing joke and even after so many years, we still all laugh and he jokingly hangs his head and trudges off dramatically with a ‘fine, I’ll go to my room.’

Why do I say it? Well firstly because I think it’s funny and firstly, because it makes Drew feel at ease and automatically like he’s part of the family, which he is anyway, but this comedic gesture just slams that point home.

It’s funny because it’s completely out of place — he’s just walked in the door, hasn’t done anything wrong, and I’m already sending him to his room. But that’s exactly why it works. The moment he hears it, he knows he’s home. He knows he belongs here, in this house where teasing is affection.

It’s a grand opening line, that’s just a brilliant icebreaker, and seems somehow to set me up as the cool Auntie. It’s the perfect mix of mock authority and comedy, which Drew loves. It’s become our tradition, and it never fails to make him and me grin.

It’s our secret handshake in sentence form — part joke, part welcome, and part reminder that family is built on the tiny, repeated things that only make sense to the people who share them.

Every family has its folklore — those odd little sayings and inside jokes that seem ridiculous to anyone else but mean everything to the people involved.

Who would have thought that a scolding line – something a kid would dread hearing – would turn into a family in-joke and create for Drew the feeling that he belongs here, that we have our own script and our own rhythm.

Drew has an incredible sense of humour, dry, funny, witty, clever, hysterical. He makes me laugh all the time and this is my way of giving it back and making him laugh.

It’s a lovely and funny tradition, that I now use with my other gorgeous nephews, Jack and Josh when they come to stay. It lets them know they’re not guests, they’re family.

If I’m having a conversation with Jackson in the kitchen and we’ve wrapped up the chat, it’s not uncommon for me to say to him ‘Go to your room.’ What happens – he laughs his head off and goes to his room with a smile on his face.

One day, no doubt, as this tradition continues, I’m sure the boys will repeat it back to me, laughing, when I go to visit them – ‘Right, Auntie Helen/Mum….go to your room.’

What will I do – well, I’ll laugh, and I’ll go to my room, remembering all the years the line meant you’re home.

*Image Adobe Stock