The backstory: There is a rather famous story about me as a toddler and the very first sentence I uttered: "I'll do it myself." Based upon this morning's conversation with my mother, let's just say the apple didn't fall far from the tree.
Me: Let me know when your suitcase is ready and either JT or I will carry it downstairs for you.
My Mom: It only weighs 30 pounds. I can do it.
Me: I know, but just let me carry it for you.
My Mom: I lift 45 pounds at the gym every day.
Me: Okay. But let one of us help.
My Mom: It's really not heavy.
Me: Here's the deal, Mom. If something did go wrong, how would I explain that I let my 68 year old mother fall down the stairs carrying her suitcase? Totally bad press for me and I end up in News of the Weird. Let me carry your suitcase downstairs.
My Mom (grudgingly): Okay.
And then my father weighs in, "Go ahead and carry it downstairs for her and then she'll carry it back upstairs and carry it down the right way." And then we all laughed, some of us harder than others. I expect that my mother is plotting her revenge.