Seriously?

My father is in town. So far, we have eaten, eaten, and then eaten some more. Here is my favorite event/story thus far.

Background: My dad really likes a particular kind of french toast. Last summer, I baked homemade bread (sans machine) and sold it at a local farmer's market on the weekends. One of the types of bread I made was challah, pronounced Holla - like you're giving a shout-out. Anyway, challah is a traditional Jewish sweet bread, with a little saffron (or turmeric) so that it is a tad yellow in color. Very tasty. Traditionally, it is eaten on the Sabbath, so the leftovers are then prepared for breakfast as either toast or, in this case, french toast.

My dad loves challah, so I made an extra loaf one weekend while he was here last summer. We didn't do the whole sabbath meal, but I did make the accompanying breakfast. Apparently, my dad loved it so much, he went back home and has now gotten into the habit of buying challah and having my sister make french toast for him (he's not much of a cook).

Foreground: So my dad and I are having a casual discussion on Thursday night- catch-up if you will, and he mentions the challah french toast. I tell him, I'd be happy to make him some bread and we can have that on Sunday for breakfast. He quickly replies that he doesn't need it, he was just mentioning it.

On my way home from work on Friday, I call my husband to see what he and my dad are up to. He promptly tells me that they are on their way to the grocery story to pick up some challah. Are you kidding me? I comment to my hubby that I offered to make the bread for my dad, so I'm not really sure why he decided to go out and buy it. Hubby's response: my dad didn't want me to work, so he just figured he'd buy it and then all I have to do is make the french toast. My reply: Let me get this straight. He doesn't want me to work, so I don't need to bake the bread, just make the breakfast? Hubby: Yep.

Is there a definition of work out there with which I'm not familiar?