Living with boys

As the nursery rhyme goes, girls are made of sugar and spice while boys, on the other hand, are made of frogs and snails and puppy dog tails.

Although I'm not sure if that poem holds true for the 2 boys I'm currently living with, what I do know for sure about these fellas is that they never inherited the cleaning gene.

As much as I commend their culinary drive to cook whole chickens and large cuts of pork, I get weak in the knees when I am at the breakfast table mindfully eating away at my porridge and the aftermath of their Iron Chef challenges, as it would seem, surround me.

Consequently I have been thrusted into a severe (and diagnosable, I'm sure!) obsessive compulsive kitchen cleaning rant (OCKCR, for short!). Armed with the most powerful disinfectant cleaning spray I could find at the market, I am a force to be reckoned with. Germs (and boys), you have been warned...