FIONNUALA wanted our gutters cleaned before the winter set in and told me to get a suitable man for the job.

As you know by now, I’m not averse to cleaning. I never thought that would be the case, as I was your typically untidy, through-other child, and lazy, good-for-nothing student.

As a young adult forging my career, I did the bare minimum, hoovering only the places that could be seen and ironing only the parts of my shirt not hidden under my jumper. A spray of Calvin Klein Obsession would hide a skipped shower.

That all changed when I got married and took on the role of house-husband. It was a role I enjoyed at the start, until Fionnuala suggested we go for a coffee one day a village nearby, and whilst not quite reading me the riot act, she laid out a few ground rules.

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