Why is it...
that it always rains when you organise a BBQ?
that toast always lands butter side down?
that you ladder your tights when they are your last ones?
that when your husband runs the car on empty he can get to a petrol station but when you do you land up stranded on a back lane in the middle of Suffolk where there is no mobile connection?
that when you are late everything conspires to make you later?
that the one day you buy something really naughty and not really needed he just has to dive into you handbag for some loose change and spots the till reciept?
that the time you put up a post criticising the way a friend raises her child totally anonymuosly she finds your blog for the first time?
that just when you are ready for an almighty argument your OH does something like buy you flowers just because?