Frasier: Don't you think we ought to talk about what happened this afternoon?
Martin: Nothing happened this afternoon.
Frasier: Look, Dad. I know you're disappointed about the painting.
Martin: That's not a problem.
Frasier: Well, you said yourself that it wasn't as easy for you to give me things as it was when I was a kid.
Martin: Yeah, well I wasn't very good at it then either. Your Mother always picked all your stuff out.
Frasier: Still, you did put a roof over my head. Sent me to school.
Martin: All right. You want to talk about this? We'll talk about it. Do people ever come up to you after they've met me and say, "How can that guy be your father? He's nothing like you."
Frasier: Well...
Martin: 'Cause they've been saying that to me about you for the last forty years! I just thought that- I don't know. I'd finally given you something. Something you liked. Something we both liked. That we had something in common or something. It's no big deal. I'm tired. I'm going to bed.