I have created a monster

I have created a monster and I never really intended to.  Although, does one ever really intend on creating a monster?  Discuss amongst yourselves. 

Wesley and I have lived in wedded bliss in our little home for roughly 588 days.  Actually, its been 588 days.  I did the math.  During this time, I realize that he's not done much in the house.  I feel that he does more than his fair share of providing for our family and therefore I let him slide on some of the more mundane tasks of homemaking, such as loading dishes in the dishwasher.  And, lets be realistic.  It took a good nine months for him to even get them near the vicinity of the sink.  You pick and choose your battles. 

Last night, for some unknown reason, my husband took pity on me and decided to help load the dishwasher.  He took his plate and silverware dutifully over to the large white receptacle, stood, stared, and studied the two racks of already dirty items.

I watched his brow furrow. 

He bent over, studying the contents of the top row.  He carefully slid it all the way into the dishwasher.  Then he bent farther over, furrowed his brow even more and studied the bottom row.  Finally, he turned his head towards me. 

"Um, where does the silverware go?" 

I laughed, cried, snorted and hyperventilated so uncontrollably while I attempted to slide the bottom rack in and show him that silverware should be placed in the door that I think he is scarred for life.  I feel that it is safe to say he will never attempt to touch the dishwasher again.  Perhaps I should look into some sort of sensitivity training.