"So... I need four ounces of flour and two eggs. Would you weigh out the flour for me please?"

He scours the recipe, looking for, presumably, some error in what I've just told him.

"So that's four ounces of flour, honey" I repeat ('honey', to mask my disdain).

He continues to scour for a minute or so, while I eyeball him comically, like some kind of US sitcom experience.

"Yep" he says, finally. "You're right." And begins weighing out the flour.

"...Er, yes. Did you need to consult the cookbook for that?"

He sighs. "No Jenna, I didn't." The tone changes. What's up with you?"

"Nothing, there's no need to snap though."

"Why do you always make me feel like I'm starting an argument?"

"Look, if you're going to be like this, I can do this on my own."

"Go? You seriously want me to leave?"

I don't, but I'm way too far in now.

"Well... Yes." I reply curtly.

"Fine."

"Fine."

He leaves.

Of course, it lasted about 10 pathetic minutes before we went back to licking the bowl of cookie dough. But it could have been solved if a) I wasn't so stubborn and b) men understood that what women say, they generally mean the opposite.

Yet now, it would seem, a book has been published for the purpose of bridging the gap between the sexes. Written by a man, to (and I quote) "re-educate women."

Dante Moore, a first-time author from Washington, explains in the book how women should go about sex, relationships and marriage – according to men.

The self-described re-educator, writes: "I want to express my anger and frustration as a man with the women I feel are miseducated, misinformed, and ill-prepared about their responsibilities in getting and maintaining a relationship with a man of quality."

In it, Dante covers cooking, staying skinny, wearing sexy things around the house and doing whatever your man tells you to do ("Here's a little secret, ladies: men never really ask for anything. They command… And believe me, what you won't do, 10 broads around the corner will."). Quite the catch, isn't he?