I just hate women. Especially my wife at the moment.
"Can you paint the new fence at the bottom of the garden?"
Off I go down to B&Q and spend 30 mins looking at all the fence paints, of all colours, textures and manufacturers. (maybe we can hold a fence painting olympics).
Anyway I choose Antique pine silk, and rush home to begin this labour of love.
3 hours later I have finished. (It's a long fence at chateau filthy engineer)
The question I'm asking is: Why did she wait till after I'd finished, to tell me she wasn't happy with the colour?