I am currently painting a very long fence. Well not at this precise moment, as obviously being unable to multitask due to gender restrictions, I am tapping away at the keyboard.
The deal loosely arranged with the lovely Mrs Bemused, was that I would build the very long fence and she would attend to the painting there of. I didn't quite work out the specifics of this arrangement and now find myself spending hours, day after day, applying paint to said fence, solo.
Mrs Bemused of course made the executive and very important decision as to what colour the paint would be. This took much consternation, deliberation and consultation with another member of the same gender as the wise Mrs Bemused. Like the all important choosing of clothes, in one of those strange ritualistic retail therapy expeditions that few males can comprehend the value of.
After considerable intellectual expertise was applied to the choosing of the appropriate colour, brown was selected.
Personally I was in favour of purchasing a bucket of black paint and a bucket of white paint. Then I was going to paint a small section at one end white and the opposite end black. After completing both ends such, I was then going to mix the whole lot and paint the remainder grey and call it a tribute to my MK childhood. However it is brown as chosen by the aforementioned insightful Mrs Bemused and I am not calling the monotone masterpiece "Brown Gold", just in case anyone is wondering.
And so, the wise reader will be wondering what lessons and conclusions Bemused has drawn from his experience of painting the fence for endless hours. Not much really, just the job has to be done by someone and that someone is me, personally I'd rather be off cycling with Canine Bemused, who is snoozing in the sun, while I paint. Perhaps the conclusion is that it is for both of us a dogs life, but he is enjoying it more than I am
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