Ladies - I need your help.

Grant me patience, oh please, grant me patience. Ladies, I'd like to talk to you about a little problem we all share. If you have a man, especially if that man is your husband, then you will be able to relate to my problem.

Men. Don't. Listen.

I admit that I am a touch irritated this morning because a woodpecker decided to take on our metal gutters at 5:19am. If there is one thing I can not handle well it is being woken up early for no good reason. That, and I was freezing because the heat wasn't turned on last night. So maybe I'm blowing this out of proportion. That's why I need your help.

I am hosting a baby shower for a colleague tomorrow, Friday. I have been talking about this shower for the last month. As in, "Here are the decorations I bought for the shower," and, "I got my gift for the shower," and, "I sent out the invitations for the shower." This week in particular I have been talking about it a lot, as in, "I ordered the cake for the shower this Friday," and, "I picked up the drinks for the shower this Friday," and, "Oh, I can't go to lunch with you and your sister this Friday because of the shower."

So this morning my husband and I are getting ready for work when I tell him that I need to go to Costco's after work today, Thursday.

"Oh yeah, why?"

Why? Why! Because I have a freaking SHOWER this FRIDAY. Do I have to have a joystick coming out of my butt in order for my husband to retain any information I impart? How can he memorize the entire dialoge of "Young Frankenstein" when he hasn't seen the movie in years, and not recall something I told him A DAY AGO?

I know that my husband does not give two rat's asses about this shower. Because of that, most of the information I've given him is disregarded immediately. I know this. I've accepted this. But to be completely oblivious? Arg!

Ladies, please tell me how you put up with this. Give me some sort of solace. Tips, hints, coping techniques, I'm begging you. I love my husband dearly. But this morning I just wanted to hit him over the head with something heavy, punctuating each smack with "Shower! Shower! Shower! Shower! Shower!"

I don't want to be a bitch, but it seems that this is the only way my husband will retain information. It took three years and two arguments for my husband to finally understand that I get off work at 4:30pm.
January: "When do you get off work?"
"4:30."

February: "Hey, when do you get off work?"
"4:30."

May: "What time do you leave work?"
"4:30."

August: "Hey, what time do you-"
"Four fucking thirty, you ass, f-o-u-r fucking t-h-i-r-t-y! One, two, three, FOUR; ten, twenty, THIRTY!"

November: "When do you get off work?"
"Sploosh." (The sound of me having an aneurysm.)

Help. Oh, please, help.