Note from wife to husband:

It's not that I don't know what I want--it's that I don't know how to get it from someone who doesn't know how to give it.

Expected response from husband to wife:

Handing me the Cellini catalogue from American Express and asking which one over $5,000 I am going to present to you upon the delivery of our third child (which to me, has meant 27 full months in the past 8 years of bitchy pregnancy hormones, crying jags over nothing, insisting I leave the comfort of my own bed at 3 am because you want Taco Cabana, and sex being rationed out like it's a sugary snack and I have cavity-ridden teeth) does not equal you not knowing what you want or that you don't know how to get it. It means that you got pregnant from a guy on McDonald's 2 for $2 cheeseburgers budget. I might SuperSize your fries, but only if I get to name the baby.