My siblings and I moved back home. Within days, my parents said they wanted to downsize

Four months ago, I moved back to the safety and comfort of my parents’ home. My younger sister had been back for six months before I arrived and my younger brother followed suit a few weeks after me.

It was just after he arrived that my parents gave us the news: they wanted to downsize.

Despite having three adult children in their 20s, they never had the chance to be true empty-nesters.

This year looked to be their time, but I returned home from an overseas trip, my brother was in between rental properties and my sister wanted to save – foiling their plans.

So, my parents again had a full house. Within a few days of having the three of us back, they were contemplating downsizing – the first we had heard of it – and by that Saturday they were hitting up open homes, much to our surprise.

The hilarious timing was not lost on us. Whether they’d been contemplating it for a long time or simply never wanted to have three adult children returning home again, I’m not sure. They say it was the former, but we suspect it’s the latter.

In an ideal world, they’d be empty-nesters by now, and we’d all own apartments, not be jumping between share houses. Luckily, we’ve always had the option to return home when we want to – and this time for me, it’s about trying to get up my savings for a first-home deposit.

Moving back home as an adult is … interesting. As grown-up as you think you are, it can be hard not to revert to your teenage self – and hard, too, for your parents not to treat you like one.

Having moved out of home at 18 to go to university in regional NSW, I’ve made the trudge back home multiple times in the decade since. The last time I was 23 and stayed for close to two years, but it wasn’t without its challenges – at times ending up at loggerheads over the simplest things.

I was keen to get out of the house again and cringed at the thought of having to tell people I was living at home (even though it’s pretty common at that age).

This time I’m 28, and things are better (at least I think they are) and I couldn’t care less if people know that I’m back. Sydney is damned expensive, and I’m lucky to have parents who are happy to have me and have the space for me to move back in while I save – a lot of people don’t have that option.

Perhaps it’s also because I know I’m not alone, with more than 50 per cent of young Australians under 30 living with their parents. Friends and relatives have made similar return trips, while others are yet to leave the nest.

Sure, it’s weird at first. Boundaries have to be set, and it can sometimes feel like you’re back in high school when your mother asks you how your day was the second you walk in the door, and you reply “fine” like a sullen teenager. But then other evenings it’s pretty great to have wine on a Thursday with your mum after a long day.

I pay board, cook and clean – but less than I would if I lived on my own, admittedly far less of the latter two. Mum and Dad have first dibs on what to watch or listen to in the living room, but that’s not really a problem, ’cause long gone are the days where we had one TV. They play music I don’t like, and a lot of music I used to hate but now love. We’ve even been known to watch a movie together of an evening – which would have horrified my teenage self when I probably couldn’t think of anything more lame to do on a Saturday night.

You slowly settle back into your family’s rituals and quirky house rules developed over decades. Maybe your family doesn’t have any, but here are some of ours:

• If you open the dishwasher and it’s clean, you’ve got to empty it. And yes, people avoid doing that until someone else unknowingly opens it.
• If you’re making coffee of a Sunday, you’d better offer to make it for everyone who is home.
• Leftovers are a free for all, as is anything in the fridge really unless you’ve explicitly specified no one can eat it – which even then doesn’t mean it’s safe.
• If you let the two dogs stay inside when no-one is home, leave the TV on because they like it, but make sure you close the bedroom and pantry doors.
• Everyone still has their seats at the kitchen bench. Even when there are only two of you home and you sit in your sibling’s seat – that’s weird. Eating at the table is rare and for special-ish days or Sundays.
• Open blocks of chocolate are often left in the freezer (I know this is highly unusual) so that when you have some, you almost chip a tooth.
• The sudoku in Saturday’s paper is for Mum, don’t try to have a crack at it first.
• There are three bathrooms in the house, but everyone has the same favourite shower. Be prepared to run for it at peak times.
• You’re on a roll if you can hang onto a pair of new socks for more than a month. Socks go missing; always have and always will. Is it the washing machine or is the dog eating it, who knows?

Still with me? There are ups and downs and lots of things I never thought to appreciate before, even with the property itself. (Having a backyard is essentially like having a small inner-city park to yourself.) My commute is longer, but that’s a compromise I’m happy to make. And passive-aggressive housemates are a thing of the past. If someone has a problem, they’ll tell you – for better or worse.

I’ve been back almost four months, and I’m not sure how much longer I’ll be able to stay, given my parents hope to downsize in the new year. While they’ve kindly assured us that there will be space for us wherever they go, I’m thinking it will be time for me to move on. I’m glad I got to have a last hurrah in the family home, and I’ve surprised myself with how much I’ve enjoyed being back.