Photo by Volodymyr Hryshchenko on Unsplash
House rules are the most copied text in hosting — and the most copied badly. Templates found online tend toward the fifteen-clause penal code, which protects nothing (guests skim it) while costing plenty (reviews mention "so many rules"). A good rules template does the opposite: few rules, each with its reason, worded like a person, closed with generosity.
This is that template. Below: the core rules block ready to copy, worded examples for every common rule, property-specific add-ons (pools, pets, hot tubs, rural quirks), and the placement guidance that decides whether rules get read at all.
How to use this template
Pick three to five rules maximum from the examples — only the ones whose violation has genuinely cost you money, sleep or neighbour goodwill. Fill the [reasons] with your property's truth, because the reason is the mechanism: guests break rules that feel arbitrary and keep rules they understand. And always keep the generous close — it reframes everything above it. Rules belong in two places with different wording: the listing's rules field (contractual, plain) and the welcome book (warm, reasoned — this template). They must agree in substance, never in tone.
The core template
The [three] things we ask
- [Rule headline] — [the real reason, one line].
- [Rule headline] — [the real reason, one line].
- [Rule headline] — [the real reason, one line].
Beyond that: live here properly. [Generous line: "Cook big, use the good mugs, help yourself to the pantry basics and the garden herbs."] The rules are three lines; the invitation is the whole house.
Worded examples: the universal rules
No smoking (indoors):
No smoking inside, ever — [reason: "the thatch is original and uninsurable twice" / "the smell outlives every stay, and the deposit conversation is awkward for everyone"]. The [garden bench / balcony] is the smoking spot, and the tin on the wall is the ashtray.
No parties or events:
No parties — this one's firm, and it's the insurance talking as much as us. Dinner with friends is living; [number]+ people and a speaker is a different business, and not ours.
Quiet hours:
Quiet from [time] — [reason: "the walls are 1830s stone and carry sound beautifully, unfortunately" / "the neighbours include early-shift nurses we're protective of"]. Inside voices after [time] and everyone wins.
Registered guests only:
The booking covers your group — extra overnight guests need a quick message first, mostly so the insurance stays honest and the hot-water maths still works. Daytime visitors for a cuppa: always fine.
Pets:
(If no) No pets this time, we're afraid — a previous guest's allergy taught us how long fur outlasts a stay. (Dog people ourselves, painfully.) (If yes — state where pets are and aren't allowed, any breed or size limits, and the clean-up expectation, in the same warm register.)
Shoes:
Shoes off upstairs, please — the floorboards are original and softer than they look. The basket by the stairs is for exactly this.
Check-in/checkout respect:
Checkout by [time], arrivals from [time] — the gap is the cleaning team's whole window, and they work magic in it. [Late checkout sometimes possible — just ask the day before.]
Property-specific add-ons
Hot tub:
Hot tub: shower before, cover after — the shower keeps the water clean for your whole stay (it's chemistry, not fussiness), and the cover holds the heat you'll want tomorrow. No glass on the deck — bare feet and broken tumblers have met before.
Log burner / fireplace:
The fireguard goes on before bed — embers keep their opinions for hours. Kindling's in the copper bucket; the full how-to (it's easy) is in the appliance section.
Pool: (the safety-critical one — always state supervision requirements explicitly: "children must be supervised at all times; there is no lifeguard on duty")
BBQ:
BBQ: brilliant, with two asks — it lives on the [stone patio] (never the decking), and the coals go in the metal bin cold. Tools hang beside it; help yourself.
Rural/farm:
Gates you open, you close — the sheep are optimists and the road is real.
Coastal:
Wetsuits drip outside — the hallway flagstones become an ice rink. The outdoor tap and hooks by the back door are the wetsuit station.
EV charging:
Charging: use the [charger location], not the domestic sockets — the house wiring predates the electric car by a century, and the proper charger is faster anyway.
The wording rules behind the examples
Five patterns run through every example above, and they're the actual template. Headline the behaviour, not the prohibition ("Quiet from 10pm" beats "NO NOISE"). One line of reason, always — unexplained rules invite guests to supply their own explanation, and theirs is never as sympathetic as yours. No capitals, no exclamation marks — typography reads as tone before words are parsed. Consequences stay in the listing — the book persuades; the contract enforces; mixing registers poisons both. Close with more than you asked for — the generous line is the part guests quote in reviews, and it makes compliance feel like reciprocity rather than obedience.
Break any single rule of the five and the template still works; break two and you're back to the laminated penal code.
Placement: where rules live in your welcome book
Rules sit fifth in the book's running order — after the welcome, arrival, essentials and house manual have established warmth and usefulness, before the local guide. Never page one (that's the introduction's job), and never duplicated in full elsewhere: where a rule matters in the moment, the relevant section carries a one-line pointer ("parking has one rule worth knowing — see House Rules"). In a digital guide, the rules section sits one tap from home and searchable — visible to the guest who checks, invisible to the guest who doesn't need it, which is exactly the right prominence for rules.
Keeping rules current
Rules age two ways: the incident that demands a new rule, and the rule whose reason expired. For the first, draft through the template, wait a day, and re-read before publishing — fresh scars write shouty rules. For the second, run the rules block through your quarterly review: any rule you can no longer explain earns retirement, because dead rules dilute live ones. Digitally, either change ships to every guest instantly — including the mid-stay guest who needed tonight's clarification.
From template to listing: the two-version workflow
Because rules live in two homes, finish the job by writing both versions in one sitting. Take your chosen three-to-five rules and draft the book version first (this template — warm, reasoned), then compress each into its listing version: the same substance, stripped to plain contract language. "Quiet from 10pm — the walls are 1830s stone and the neighbours are gems" becomes "Quiet hours 10pm–8am." "No parties — the insurance talking as much as us" becomes "No parties or events."
The order matters: hosts who draft the contractual version first tend to carry its coldness into the book; drafting warm-first keeps each version in its own register. Check the pair for agreement (same rules, same substance, no book rule missing from the listing), paste the plain set into your listing's rules field, and the warm set into your guide's rules section. Total time: fifteen minutes, done perhaps twice a year — and every guest thereafter meets the contract where contracts belong and the warmth where warmth works.
The bottom line
Three to five rules, each with its true reason, warm words, no shouting, a generous close — copied from the examples above and placed fifth in a book guests actually read. That's the whole template, and it protects your property better than any laminated list ever has. Put it in a guide worth trusting: start free with WelcomeFlo.
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