"Meet The Family"

You close the door, but don't hear the little click because it's covered by a shout of, “He's home!” You see your sister at the top of the stairs, smiling knowingly at you before answering your silent question with, “Chicken, I think. She can't decide.”

You shake your head and trudge up the stairs. She continues, “I know you hate it when I do that, but sometimes the urge is just too strong to resist...”

“Just get out of it, will you?” you ask with a small smirk, shooing her out of the way. You would normally be annoyed with her for that, but today you were just glad to be home.

Your sister shrugs and wanders serenely off to her room as you enter yours. Throwing your bag onto the bed, you head-butt the light switch and glance at your DVDs, knowing that even if you choose a film now, you'll have changed your mind by the time you sit down to watch one. You sit on the edge of your bed, burying your face in both hands and try to rub off the accumulated annoyance of the day's loud train-users. It's not too difficult this time; for some reason, being home has taken all those problems away.

You stand, deciding that some company would be nice, so karate-chopping your light off, you close the door carefully behind you.

“Good day in work?” you hear your father's voice as you enter the living room. You can't see where he is, but you spot a new plush, green armchair in the corner, so you answer, “Yeah. Same old.”

“Your mother's in the kitchen, trying to decide what to cook.”

“I know,” you nod, tapping the back of the chair slightly as you pass.

“Alright?” your mother asks sweetly.

“Yeah... What are the options? Chicken or...?”

“Pizza, but I think your brother would prefer the chicken.”

“He's coming over?”

“Yeah, didn't he tell you?”

“Haven't spoken to him for a day or two.”

“Aw, well, he'll be here in about...” she checks the clock on the wall, “Jeez, ten minutes.” You nod. “Tell your sister to come down and give us a hand?”

Again, you nod, now with a mouthful of food. You think about it and immediately hear her moving about above your head. Swallowing, you say, “She knows.”

“You can help too. I was thinking we'd eat out the garden tonight. Okay?”

“Consider it done.”

You grab another (slapped) handful of food and walk out to the garden. You have to move a table and chairs, as well as start the fire to cook with. Simple enough...

But suddenly there's a loud bang in the house. You hear your mother scream, but as soon as you get to the kitchen door, you know exactly what's going on.

“For god's sake! I thought you could control the noise now?” you mother asks your now present brother.

“I can,” he hugs her, “Just thought it would be funny. Where's Dad?”

“In the living room.”

“Hey!” He sees you at the door. “Alright?”

“Yeah, you?”

“Yeah.” The two of you walk into the living room, where your brother bounces directly onto the new armchair. A loud groan from the chair makes him spring back up instantly. Your sister comes in, seemingly already knowing that your brother has arrived.

“Now what's going on?” your mother joins the group.

Suddenly the chair begins to bubble like molten lava. It bulges in places, contorts in others until, as if in slow motion, it transforms into the shape of a man. You laugh as your father picks strands of green cotton off his clothes and rubs his chest.

“What'd you sit on me for?”

“Didn't know it was you, Dad, sorry.”

Rubbing his chest harder, your father huffs, “You should've asked.”

“Well, not many people have to ask the furniture, 'hey, chair, are you my Dad?' Do they?”

Your father grunts as your mother rubs a single hand over his chest, instantly curing him of his pain.

“Thanks.”

Your mother rolls her eyes and starts issuing orders. “You, get the meat ready. You,” she points at your sister, “get the plates and stuff. You,” she points at your brother, “get the drinks. And you, start the fire and move the table and chairs.”

“Right.”

You move toward the door when you feel your brother grab your arm, and before you know it there's a loud bang, your mother screaming again and you're suddenly in the garden.

“What have I told you about using your powers in the house?” you mother screams as she enters the garden too.

“Sorry,” your brother acts ashamed, but smirks at you secretly.

“He's not sorry,” your sister laughs.

“I don't need to be telepathic to know that, love,” your mother replies with a sigh. She adds, to you, “You may as well do your thing too, but don't let me see it, okay?”

“Right.” You walk over to the kindling and pick it up. Closing your eyes, you smile, loving this part. A mere second later, the wood in your hands erupt into flames. You place the fire down gently and allow your father to start cooking the meat.

Your brother laughs as he thinks of the rudest things he can to make his sister blush, while you point carelessly at the table and chairs, sending them into the air with a flick of your wrist, and setting them down neatly, directly in the centre of the garden.

Your job easily done, you take the time to survey your family – no wonder coming home made you smile.