(From the episode My Dirty Secret)
To set the scene, J.D. has noticed Dr. Cox and his ex-wife (who he lives with and has a child with, and who he is, for all intents and purposes, married to, even though they never really got re-married after the divorce) are having problems. He tells Dr. Cox, "let me help you."
Dr. Cox: Fine, Newbie! Let me--let me tell you a little story. It starts every day at 5 in the morning -- which is just about the time that you're setting your hair for work -- when I am awakened by a sound: Is that a cat being gutted by a fishing knife? Nooo! That's my son. He's hungry and he's got a load in his pants so big that I'm actually considering hiring a stable boy. But, I go ahead and dig in; because I do love the lad and, well gosh, you know me, I'm a giver. And [whistles] I'm off to the hospital, where my cup runneth over with both quality colleagues, such as yourself, and a proverbial clown-car full of sick people. But, what the hey, my pay is about the same as guys who break rocks with other rocks and I only have to work three or four hundred hours a week, so, so far I'm a pretty happy camper! And then I head back home where I'm greeted by the faint musk of baby vomit in a house that used to smell like, well...nothing! Nothing! Nothing! I-i-in fact it used to smell like nothing at all. And all I want to do before I restart this whole glorious cycle is, you know, maybe lay on the couch and have a beer and watch some SportsCenter and, if I'm not too sweaty from the day's labors, stick my hand right down my pants, buuuuut apparently that's not in Jordan's definition of "pulling your weight." So, uh, there you are, superstar. Fix that.
Cox starts to walk away. J.D. chases after him.
J.D.: Well, that's easy! Just tell her about it. Tell her everything you feel.
Dr. Cox: Should I give her every reason to accept that I'm for real?
J.D.: First of all, no one understands relationships like Billy Joel, okay? "Uptown Girl" got me through high school -- long story for another day. Secondly, you don't want to end up like the Randolphs back there, just not saying a word to each other, do you?
Cox thinks about that, J.D. starts to get it.
J.D.: You wish...we...were more like the Randolphs, don't you?
Dr. Cox: [smiling blissfully] God save me, I do. I reeeeally do!
He whimpers and walks off.