The other dumbass

When D saw the title of yesterday's blog he asked me if it was about him.  I said, "Surprisingly, no.  It's about me.  But I may write one about you."  And so here it is.

His most recent dumb-ass episode had to do with the dishwasher.  Our deal is I cook, he cleans up.  Given this, it would seem that he would start the dishwasher when he notices that it is full of dirty dishes.  But that rarely happens.  So in the evening, after my glass of milk, I usually turn it on so the dishes can dry overnight.

In the morning, it is not uncommon for D to open the dishwasher of now clean dishes, see it is full, and proceed to put a dirty spoon in the utensil tray.  Which makes me OCD head want to explode.

The other morning I couldn't stop the words before they flew out of my mouth when I saw that he had done this.  "WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?" I asked.

So two nights ago I wrote a big honking note and taped it on the countertop:

The dishes in this here washer are clean.

If you open it and put a dirty dish in you are an 

idiot.  

He said we need to get a dishwasher with a lock, but somehow I think if those are available they are probably intended for children.  Not husbands.  But whatev.