Guilt Trip Galore.

The background: Sam has been carrying around a camouflage Easter egg for the past week. I don't know why. The kids found the Easter eggs in a closet downstairs, and have been having Easter egg hunts all week. Sam attached himself to this egg. He even takes it to bed.

The story: Sam comes in to my room at 3 in the morning. He says, "Mommy, I need you to help me find my egg."

I don't answer. Because it was 3 in the morning, and his request did not involve the only words that guarantee my getting out of bed, poop, pee, or throw up. Hard to be concerned about missing Easter eggs at 3 in the morning.

He asks again. And I ignore him again.

Then he says, "If I were the grown up, and it was MY kid asking for help, I would get out of bed."

Well then. He knows how to hit where it hurts, doesn't he?