When I still had only my first daughter, and she was almost three, I was invited to attend a school musical in which the daughter of some friends was participating. Her parents were both unable to attend that time due to work. So I went, to represent.
I had to spend a little time in the school office when I arrived, to get checked in. As soon as I sat in one of the visitor/waiting chairs, holding my daughter in my lap, I looked across from me. A dad was sitting there with his kid. The poor girl. She had a cold and had green gunk plastered all over her lower face. The guy was just sitting there, seemingly oblivious and doing nothing to clean her up. Two thoughts then dominated my brain as I waited, battling for supremacy. The first one was, 'Please don't want to get down and play with my kid. Please oh please... don't'.
The second thought, as I occasionally glanced back at the dad, who was staring blankly at the wall, was, 'What... in the hell is wrong with you?'