Still cold (like my coffee, apparently)

Dad: Do you like cold coffee?
A.: I am drinking my coffee, dammit!
Mom: What is wrong with you? He asked you calmly.
A.: Why do I have to answer for the pace at which I sip my coffee?
Mom: You've gotten cold, and that's not right. You do everything so cerebrally, so logically. You pick your food cerebrally.
A.: I wonder what Gracie's up to. Probably snuggling up to her minder.
Mom: Because you don't fulfill her emotional needs; you're too cold. She senses that. Cats need love. You exude a coldness. That of a know-it-all. Don't think you know everything.
A.: Okay.