If a tent could be considered the microcosm of a house then last weekend only served to prove yet again, that the world is divided up into those of us who are hygiene freaks and those of us who are neat freaks.

While my sister fussed about antibacterial gel and grass in her drinking water, I spent an inordinate amount of time crawling around on my hands and knee’s trying to bring order to a tent stuffed with five peoples belongings before I lost my marbles altogether and went to live up a nearby tree.

At home I barely notice stains on the carpet but get positively uppity if I walk into a room and see a cupboard left carelessly open or a table piled with nonsense. I don’t worry about germs, frown in a fierce fashion at dirt-busting products stuffed full of nasties, and fail to go into meltdown if a day goes by and I haven’t managed a shower. But I can’t think straight in a room where from my rather daft point of view, things are out of place. I have to tidy up before I can tackle whatever the world is about to throw on my plate next.

Don’t get me wrong: the house is hardly crawling in microscopic bugs, I am fastidious about sticking to a cleaning regime that keeps the house relatively spick and span, but I am not over zealous. You won’t find me muttering about the filth on the kitchen floor or lying awake at night stressing about how in the name of all that is holy, I will fit an extra-curricular toilet scrub into a day already bursting with a long list of jobs.
No Missy, not me. I have no fear of a healthy level of grime but can barely tolerate toys on the floor. Early onset middle-age is rendering me blind to dust and bizarrely grumpy about scrunched up towels and books piled in a higgeldy-piggeldy fashion…

But what about you? Are you a hygiene freak or a neat freak? Or are you (bless your long suffering family!) both?? Does your housekeeping rule your life or are there area’s you are happy to let slip? Do you have nightmares about the germs hopping all over your chopping boards or are you all fur coat and no knickers like little old me?

‘Fess Up Housekeepers!