Here’s my conversation with Parker this morning as we’re walking down the steps:
Parker: “If I’m the last one down, am I a rotten egg?”
Me: “No, honey, you’re not a rotten egg.”
Parker: “Then I’m not coming down the stairs!”
Me: “You want to be a rotten egg?”
Parker: “Yes.”
Me: “Ok. If you come down the steps, you’re the rotten egg.”
I have no idea when it became cool to be the rotten egg, but in Parker’s world it is.

































