Here is a an all too familiar interaction with my dad.
It's 10:30, and I'm standing in my parents' kitchen talking to my mom, who has just informed me that the swim meet my dad is coaching at this weekend is four hours away and he will be as a result gone all weekend. We share a whispered "YES!" And then she talks a little more about the meet.
Then Dad comes down the stairs. He does not say "hello" or any such nicety. In fact, he does not even acknowledge my presence at all. He looks at my mom and asks her if she washed the clothes he needs for the meet. She nods and goes off to the laundry room to find them. Then he looks at me.
Dad: There's something wrong with the printer.
Me: Okay...
Dad: It won't print color even though I just changed the cartridge.
Me: Um, okay, do you want me to look at it?
Dad: Yes.
I head upstairs, check a few things with the printer, take the cartridge out, check to make sure it's in right, all the little plastic strips have been taken off, I try running and test page and a troubleshooting page, but it's not working. Dad comes upstairs.
Dad: Did you fix it?
Me: No, I'm not really sure what's wrong with it.
Dad: You barely even looked at it. You're giving up with it awful quick.
Me: I checked a couple things, but I really don't know much about that printer.
Dad: I obviously would have checked all the quick things already.
Me: Okay, but I don't think I really know anymore than you would.
Dad: Well I think we want a colored printer in the house which means you better fix it.
Me: All right...
Oh, and PS I HAVE A COLORED PRINTER OF MY OWN, THANK YOU VERY MUCH!