It’s so hard to say goodbye to you, 54th parliament. Thank God the good times outweighed the bad.

We all have that one flat share we’ll never forget, the one that made you tear your hair out over who’s on chores and seemed at constant risk of breaking the lease. The House of Representatives is the most chaotic and tightly budgeted flat in the nation, but before this three-year lease folds, the head tenants have some fond memories to look back on.

What was left for the government to ask itself in Tuesday’s question time but for some reminders of just how good these times were? Finance minister Nicola Willis took a patsy in order to reveal an “annual rent increase of – wait for it – zero”. To housing minister Chris Bishop, “what reports has he seen on interest rate deductibility?” then “what other reports?” And to resources minister Shane Jones, “why has there been such strong growth.. under this government?”

“Undoubtedly related in part to my advocacy,” Jones proclaimed. And despite the challenges of “iIll-informed Green creatures,” said Jones (“Is that the mirror?” offered Green co-leader Chlöe Swarbrick), the mineral sector is thriving. With thanks to the matua, the industry is “no longer treated like a red-haired step child”.

Later in the evening, Act’s Brooke van Velden waddled her way across the House for the final time. The internal affairs minister shed a few tears for her valedictory, but she promised it was just the pregnancy hormones. She remembered debriefs with her leader at the Thistle Inn, and the first time she was promised a vote while doorknocking in Tāmaki. Of course, there was also “the fateful day of the ‘c’ word”.

“I’m proud to have stood up to that misogyny,” van Velden said, “for every woman who stays silent out of fear of being labelled the wrong kind of woman.”

If Tuesday’s question time was the highlight reel, then Wednesday’s was the lowlights. Ever the good student, Chris Hipkins began his questioning of Luxon by blushingly thanking speaker Gerry Brownlee for all his hard work this term. “Take an extra supp,” Brownlee chortled.

Then Hipkins kicked off. Was the prime minister  still “laser focused” on the cost of living if the price of butter was up? Is he prouder of wages going backwards or unemployment being its highest in 14 years? And which of his minister’s statements best reflected the government’s attitude to migrants: “likening Indian Kiwis to a butter chicken tsunami, calling Chinese Kiwis liars, telling Mexican New Zealanders to go home, or telling a Cook Island Kiwi that they aren’t really a New Zealander?”

One of the most exciting and combative duos of the latter part of this term has been Labour’s consumer spokesperson Arena Williams and commerce and consumer affairs minister Cameron Brewer. Last week, Brewer told the House the price of a tin of spaghetti had fallen by 1%. So in the pair’s final hurrah, Williams was here to set the record straight – in fact, the price has actually increased by 8%.

It marked the first time in parliament’s 172-year history that these words were heard in the House: “I seek to leave to table this can of spaghetti.” No, no, no replied the speaker; you can’t table anything that isn’t a document. “And besides that, there’s not enough to go around.”

Next up was Louise Upston as leader of the House to discuss something “only the deepest parliament nerds will ever pay attention to”. A condition of these flatties moving out of the House is that they must review the rules in the lease, otherwise known as the standing orders, before the new tenants arrive. Of the big changes next term, MPs will be expected to explain why their bills have bypassed the select committee stage, and a legislative scrutiny committee will be established to consider bills outside of the committee of the whole stage.

Then came the finale. The 54th parliament roared, sang and at some points stumbled through the two hours of adjournment debate not as one big spark but as a candle flickering to death. The coalition leaders left many wanting, with Luxon and his deputy prime minister’s offerings lukewarm. Peters mumbled something something “wah-wah-wānanga” and signed off with a few classic Winstonisms for good measure: “Stand back sunshine, I’ve got news for you: I’m coming back big time.”

Te Pāti Māori co-leader Rawiri Waititi hurried through what he hadn’t anticipated to be a split call (where an allotted 10-minute slot is divided between two members). And Hipkins had much more gusto as he rose to reflect on predictions made on the 2023 campaign trail. He said Seymour and Peters would “run circles” around Luxon, and now they’ve run the Beehive “carpet threadbare”. “I also said Christopher Luxon would have to get better at answering questions. On both of those predictions, I think I was right.”

Swarbrick was easily the most rousing of the leaders. She thanked Brownlee for kicking her out of the House more times this term than he had Peters, “for the crime of asking whether we could find any government MPs with a spine”. She reviewed what “Luxon, Winston Peters and that other guy” had done with their three years in power, with her party musterer Ricardo Menendez-March dutifully passing her a clown-car of printed-out bad headlines. Ah, the good times. She had one final banger: “Winston Peters is living proof that Māori never ceded sovereignty.”

Speaker Gerry Brownlee had the final say, listing off the numbers of coffees served (166,000) and pies made (12,000) at parliament’s Copperfield’s cafe this term. There was a reminder of the sacrifices made by MPs to serve in this House and outside of it, and there was no opposition when Brownlee moved the motion to adjourn the House.

“We did it, guys!” was National MP Katie Nimon’s cry as she hopped down the benches to hug her colleagues. Minister Simon Watts corralled the caucus into a selfie, with the big boss front and centre. Chris Penk walked out the door for the last time. And the Labour Party returned to its floor of the parliament buildings, hopeful the country might think them worthy enough to take up the master bedroom in the next lease.

Next week, the New Zealand Herald of Arms Extraordinary to the King (try saying that five times fast) will read the proclamation that officially dissolves parliament. Nothing in this election cycle is promised, apart from the return of a certain octogenarian who might fancy himself head tenant next time around. Until then, The Spinoff will see you back here in 2027 for the start of the 55th parliament. It’s been real.