I am in the doghouse having been discovered cooking a packet of pigs in blankets that I found in the freezer. I have explained that I was only doing this as a practice run in case my mother-in-law asks me to cook these delicacies on Christmas Day, as I have no desire to ruin everybody’s Christmas by delivering less than perfect trimmings, and that it is merely a coincidence that I waited until after she had gone to bed, but to no avail.
What injustices have you suffered at the hands of a cynical wife or partner?