I asked DH for a screwdriver as I was testing some toys before deciding whether to charity shop or skip them and needed to get to the batteries. He sighed, went under the stairs (where his tools are) produced the screwdriver and then came over and started to unscrew the screws himself, on a toy I was holding with one hand. I said "I can do that, thanks, I didn't mean you had to" and he rolled his eyes and kept going, really awkwardly. I was sitting down on the floor and he was crouched over. When it was open, I tried to get the batteries out but before I'd so much as lifted one, he was prising them out with the screwdriver.
The toy worked and I reassembled the battery pack and went to screw it closed and DH held out his hand for the screwdriver and I said "what do you want?" He said "my screwdriver!"
I said that I wasn't finished with it yet and he said "would you just give it to me, please, because I can see this ending in disaster."
Wtf did he imagine? That I was going to stab myself through the hand?? I remarked that very little was going to go wrong with tightening some screws, that it wasn't my first time with a screwdriver and I'd managed to not maim myself or wreck a house with a screwdriver so far and he stared at me and repeated "would you just give it to me?" 
Aibu to think that he should have just given me the screwdriver and had some faith that I, a woman he has observed using basic hand tools successfully, could have been trusted? Aibu to be feeling a bit prickly over the weird hint of 1950s misogyny?