So we're having a nice quiet evening, winding down towards bedtime. Suddenly my DH jumps up as if bitten by a flea, walks over to the hallway and starts fiddling with the newly purchased photo shelf. I ask him to leave it be, as I'm tired, and we'll sort it over the weekend.
Nope, on he goes about the waterpipes. OK, I kind of get that, it doesn't matter, if it can't go, the shelf is only a fiver, I'll put it into a charity box or something. No, suddenly I have to come over and give my opinion on the various positions on the wall. I give up and go back to my cuppa.
Next thing I turn around and he's eyeing the radiator suspiciously. I TELL him, beg and plead with him to leave it alone. No, off the wall it comes and apparently it is SOOO heavy I ABSOLUTELY MUST come over and help him put it back up. For the sake of clarity, this is a bog standard small radiator that CANNOT weigh more than a stone if that. I lift it during seasonal big clean with ease and put it back.
Now he's screaming the house down that I must come and help him. I put my foot down, I told him not to mess with it, now put it back up and stop being a crybaby. He goes on about having to call his elderly dad over to help him put the sodding thing back up. I tell him to pack it in.
Next thing he's on the floor, writhing like a bug, claiming the radiator fell over him. I told him I'm not having any of it, put the radiator back and stop being a fool. All of a sudden, he drags the slipper basket over, puts the radiator on it and starts following me around the house saying he's got horrible cramps and what am I going to do about it.
By this time I am royally passed off by his behaviour. I told him to pack it in, this time using some phrases I'm not going to repeat here. So he stomps off, puts the radiator back on (Suddenly it's not that heavy after all 
) and cue more screaming. I simply eyeroll as he barges into the kitchen carrying a pebble sized piece of plaster, claiming I made him break the wall down.
Now he's off to draw himself a bath to cure his humongous crams that miraculously don't stop him from stomping up and down the stairs. Apparently I'm the most selfish person alive.
I'm sitting down, trying to cool down and wondering what Dr Who monster possessed my husband tonight, as this is utterly out of character for him. I am considering making him think over his behaviour on the sofa tonight.
So AIBU to have put my foot down and demanded he cleaned up the mess of his own making???