My father has a tendency to complicate even the slightest of the tasks. In order to explain his personality, here is a classic example (although, i hate to quote Henry Kissinger).
“Intellectuals are cynical. Cynics have never built a Cathedral”
Me: (meddling with my motorcycle’s spring seat)
Father: (joins me) Do you think about in a scientific way on how to fit the spring seat?
Me: Why is that our conversation always begins like this? Do you always talk like this? I mean, can’t we have a conversation like a son and a father?
Father: (in his absolute naivety) Oh no. In our medical field, we think about the scientific implications.
Me: But you don’t have to treat everything else in your life like your medical field. Sometimes they go by instincts and sometimes - just do it!
Father: (trying his best to explain his approach) But then…
Me: (interrupting) Did you think so much before you had sex with my mother? In other words…were you thinking about which of your million sperms might end up breaching my mother’s vaginal firewall and mate with her egg - while copulating?
Father: (blank face)
Holy Cow: (bleats….)