How you know you’re married to a man-child:
He needs assistance securely fastening his own seat belt. He may protest, "It’s too hard!" Sadly, that really happened...
He feigns incompetence to get out of doing stuff, i.e., sorry I broke all of your dishes with the sponge again, dear.
When he does anything remotely mechanical I envision a monkey with a gun.
He asks you for "help" as a ploy to get out of things. "Gosh, I just can’t figure out how to feed these darn fish with these flake things."
He’s totally incapable of feeding himself, forks, spoons, chopsticks, bibs all fall short of successfully getting the food into his mouth.
He can’t figure out why he doesn’t have any money. "So I can’t afford those solid gold jet skis?"
He equates taking out the garbage with all the cooking, cleaning, and laundry duties. "We divvy things up even, honey."
The condition of man child (MC) is not likely to get any better and alcohol only exacerbates the condition.