Harmony lies in strict enforcement of the house rules

Kirsty Mcluckie on shoes, visitors and washing up rotas

ho makes the rules in your house? Thinking logically, it should be the bill payer and certainly if you are responsible for the mortgage or rent, bills and food shopping, then I have every sympathy with it being your right to decide that no clutter is left on the stairs or loo seats are always put down after use.

But things get a little more complicated in a house full of adults, all making a contribution to the household finances, even if they are related.

With the return of my husband from a few weeks spent working abroad, my daughter coming home for a month from university and the school holidays giving the youngest two in the house endless days of leisure, I certainly feel the need to enforce some house rules.

Like a lot of parents, the next couple of months may well be a challenge, if I don’t want to morph into a complete harpy.

A survey out this week has suggested that when it comes to the home we are a nation of rule-enforcers, but this could be at the expense of a harmonious household.

The survey, conducted by Super Saver Oil, says that more than half of us have fallen out with a household member over rules in the home.

The rule which most held sway apparently, is no shoes on the furniture. No phones at the dinner table came in second place, with turning the lights off on leaving a room close behind.

Seventeen per cent of respondents said that shoes must be taken off at the front door, not something I would dream of asking of visitors or residents, but then I have never been known for being house proud.

Two dogs and a cat and endless muddy boots trekking in and out, combined with only a sporadic hoovering habit, mean visitors would be well advised to keep their shoes on in my house.

It seems the disagreements on house rules are universal.

I read in the Washington Post this week that the answer to gripes between parents and adult children who live together is to draw up a contract, as you would with a lodger, but including some more personal details tackling domestic habits.

House insurance firms provide stateside customers with templates for such agreements, which can include in which room visitors are allowed and until what time, how much space should be taken up on the driveway by car parking and stiff instructions such as no cooking after 10pm.

I can’t imagine forcing an adult child to sign such an agreement, but perhaps such stringent rules really just serve as a nudge that it is time to move out and get your own place.

In the UK, flatmates can obviously draw up agreements, but in my experience this is more likely to be a cleaning rota than a prescribed instruction manual on where to leave your shoes.

Perhaps it is a cultural difference though. Having arrived home from her shared student flat last week, my daughter was alarmed to receive an online diatribe from one of her flatmates, who happens to be American, concerning a small piece of parmesan erroneously left in the fridge.

The offending object was photographed and posted on the flat’s group chat on Facebook, whereupon Lizzie had to own up to being the culprit and apologise.

Perhaps if there had been a written contract in place, tackling accepted means of cheese disposal, such a contretemps would never have happened.