Men and woman too often speak to each other from alternate universes. Here's one of my favorite examples:
HE -- Honey, when will you be ready to leave?
Now he has been around women all his life, in fact, his mother was one. And there is nothing in his life experiences that would support his expectations, but with his limited communication skills he has determined that her answer will be in the range of 20 minutes all the way to 4:30. All he really wants to know is can I make a sandwich and watch baseball on TV. But the answer is:
SHE -- Well darling I have to find the black dress that looks kinda like the one that Sheila wore to the Murphy's party last month, or was that Ami? Oh well, and I need to put on my mascara and blush, and then try to get my hair to shape up like Sylvia's after her last trip to Rodrico's only more to the left than the right, and then I need to find the sling back pumps that match the dress because they will look great even though they hurt my feet and I better bring my Reeboks to keep in the car for the trip to and from . . . . .
He thinks that there must be a 20 minute like answer in there somewhere and all he has to do is figure it out. But no matter how hard he ponders, getting her hair to sit just like Sylvia's does not conjure up any time frame at all.
He thinks that she is not answering his simple question, which leads to anxiety about the sandwich (feeding being a core function in his life). She thinks that he never listens to her. Bahhhhh! We might as well be speaking Hindi to an Eskimo.