Suffice it to say, I was not spared this level of psychosis. Ask my family. They honestly thought that I had been swapped for some alien soon as I bore my son. I cleaned. Obsessively! Still do btw. This cleaning involved Dettol. My house always smelled of Dettol. That was the only way I could relax. The surfaces, the floors and even the hand soap, all reeked of this lovely comfort that was Dettol. But I mean, could you blame me? I grew up in a household where sparkling clean was of utmost importance! Yeah, try skiving a Dettol cleaning in a house where your mother is a nurse and cleanliness trumps breathing (hi mum. love you).
Then came the toddler phase where my son believed that food eaten off the floor was sweeter than the stuff people were consuming in those round looking things we called plates. Dial the Dettol cleaning psychosis a notch higher! And trust me, a toddler eating, even off the floor is such a relief to mummy of a fussy eater! So I wasn’t going to tell my child to stop eating.
Long psychotic story short, I no longer clean obsessively. Thus, feel free drop by for a visit without worrying that I will scrub your hands and face with the stuff but rest assured, eating food off the floor in my house will probably leave you healthier than you were before. Ok maybe not healthier but don’t feel shy about picking that piece of chicken off the floor and popping it into your mouth! Because….. with Dettol, you’re 100% sure!