I am married to a man who is obsessed with cleaning. I know I’m supposed to swoon… but this is why it’s a turn-off: CLARE FOGES

I can hear my husband now: clattering, humming, sweeping sounds telling me not to disturb him. In that area: Deep Cleaning area.

I am married to a man whose favorite scent is Dettol; can spot a stained baseboard from ten feet away; Who puts Henry’s boob in unbelievable places?

The other day, I saw him, giddy with excitement, as he opened an Amazon package containing a large rotating brush used to clean the space around the drip board.

On this day off from work, he’s fixing the tsunami of destruction caused by our four little kids. When I go into the kitchen to drink coffee, I see her wiping the hardened porridge on the counter. Quaker Oats doesn’t stand a chance.

According to a recently published academic paper, seeing my husband do this must be a powerful aphrodisiac. The Journal of Sex Research, a serious publication with no giggles behind it, analyzed two studies of nearly 500 heterosexual couples living together and explored the links between housework and sexual desire.

While some of their findings weren’t too surprising (women do more housework than men), overall it made me raise all my eyebrows: Men doing chores around the house increases women’s desire. Yep, the new Diet Coke break hunk isn’t the construction worker of yesteryear, but a dishwasher-stacking guy with a grout scrubber and feather duster. Phwoar!

This is all very enlightened and feminist friendly, but men of Britain: before you wear your Marigolds in the hope of becoming more attractive, you should know that it has the opposite effect on some women. Like me.

I am married to a man whose favorite scent is Dettol; can spot a stained baseboard from ten feet away; Who puts Henry’s boob in unbelievable places?

While I certainly appreciate my husband cleaning the house, it’s not exactly a turn-on. In fact, it’s the opposite; Because seeing her cleaning reminds us of the issue we most conflict with: our opposing approaches to household chores.

Even though I’m married to a neat freak, I’m a five-star tramp; I am the Pied Piper of worn clothes, old newspapers and crumbled plates. I’m the kind of girl who’ll make an argument about dust mites being important to the ecosystem sooner than picking up a duster.

I spotted an empty coffee mug in my office, which had been there ever since Keir Starmer got the chance to stay at No 10.

Considering that housework is the #1 sticking point in our marriage, it’s not a turn on for him to be harsh about it.

Seeing him on his hands and knees polishing the kitchen floor doesn’t make me burn with desire because I know he’s probably burning with anger.

Plus – although it may seem taboo to suggest it in this day and age – taking a fluffy duster to those hard-to-reach corners isn’t exactly manly behavior, is it?

Yes, I believe in equal rights and sharing the burden between partners. No, I don’t want to go back to the days when most women had free, no-thank-you underwear. But I’m a heterosexual woman: I find it attractive when my husband does masculine things. Things involving muscle and work, strength and endurance.

I was telling him the other day that we needed a tree surgeon to remove the dead ceanothus tree in our backyard, a wild thing ten feet tall. The next thing I knew, my husband was knocking down the monster with his bare hands, breaking branches as thick as jam jars into twigs. It was like I had rummaged through the Yellow Pages for the services of the Incredible Hulk, and frankly, it was very appealing.

I like it when my husband does things I can’t – drill, tinker, do things with dowels. First of all, the heavy lifting: the large pavers he carries across the garden, the super king size mattress he carries up two flights of stairs by himself, I watch in awe.

Maybe it’s the cavewoman genes in me that crave a man who can carry a killed antelope across miles of savannah.

Whatever the reason, my husband is extremely strong and I love witnessing it in action; Not just watching him mop the floor.

According to the article, this is all based on our beliefs about relationships. Women who expect completely egalitarian partnerships are turned on by a man doing his share of the housework and experience a complete decline in desire when he doesn’t pull his weight.

People like me who hold more traditional beliefs (those who tend to view men as protectors and women as caretakers) aren’t as impressed by helpful partners and are less alarmed when their husbands skip a few chores.

When it comes to male desire, one of the most interesting findings was that cleanliness further increases passion. Unsurprisingly, both men and women viewed childcare as the most important thing to reduce libido; this was a change the authors explained by “the intense and often exhausting nature of the work”. Yes, you can say that again.

Bottom line for both genders: be considerate; don’t be lazy; Give each other breaks whenever possible. And if expenses allow, hire a cleaner.

Zoe is right, job rejection hurts.

Zoe Ball has revealed that failing her Strictly Come Dancing presenting gig forced her to ‘work through the seven stages of grief and rejection’.

While it would have been easy to take him down (no one died after all), I admire his honesty. It can be painful to be rejected for a job you desire. It’s worse than romantic rejection. At least when you ask someone out, you don’t have six rounds of meetings first.

Can Larry take on another boss?

While working at No10 many years ago, I developed a fondness for resident mouser Larry the Cat.

Late at night, while I was spending time in front of my computer, he was sitting in front of the printer trying to keep warm, and it was as if he was saying: ‘What are you still doing here, loser?’ I am concerned for Keir Starmer’s health as speculation continues about his leadership.

Forget about how financial markets will react, how about Larry? He is now a mature man of 19 years old. Six owners in ten years is destabilizing for an older cat.

A middle-aged obsession with gardening has crept up on me like clematis climbing a trellis. One minute I think garden centers are the most boring places in the world, the next I Google ‘Monty Don Live’. Addiction to gardens is an English disease; We all catch it sooner or later.

Why I prefer to travel alone

There is a huge increase in the number of women traveling alone abroad; a 91 percent increase in ten years. Before I had kids, I loved hitting the road on my own…just me, a backpack, and a pack of emergency Ginger Nuts. There were some creepy moments (a creepy Parisian taxi driver), but there’s nothing like just following your own schedule in a foreign country.