Mars, venus or is that Tobler, everyone else?

I received more then ample proof yesterday that my husband and I don't speak the same language. Not that I needed it or anything, but I thought we had gotten pretty good at the translations in the past twelve years.
I intend to make spaghetti for dinner tonight. To that end I discovered a lack of tomato sauce in my pantry. Jeff was going out yesterday afternoon to run some errands so I made up a list, we discussed it momentarily and I sent him off.
My list read like this-
Tomato Sauce
Garlic bread
milk
Four hours later, he arrived home. I unpacked the bags of groceries- Lots of milk, two loaves of garlic bread, good, good. What is this? Four jars of spaghetti sauce. Not tomato sauce, spaghetti sauce.
"Jeff?" I call. "Where's my tomato sauce?"
"It's right there. Tomato sauce for spaghetti tomorrow for dinner."
It took me nearly fifteen minutes and a trip to the pantry shelves to display my last can of real tomato sauce to explain the difference to him.
"What's the big deal? You just use this and add your other stuff to it."
AGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
He went back to the store.