Christmas morning

As we were sitting down to breakfast

A.: Why is there a rotting beet next to my head? It's bad enough that I don't even have a place of my own at the table. I have to share with all of mom's vitamin bottles and used tea bags.
Dad: Oh, I took it out of the fridge because it was rotting. I didn't compost it because I didn't know whether mom wanted to try to salvage parts of it.

As we were sitting down for coffee

A.: That beet is still there!

Dad gets up, picks up the beet, and puts it on the other counter.

A.: That's it? You're just going to move it from one counter to another?
Dad: Now it's not right by your head when you're eating.
Mom: Why do you have to move the beet from one counter to another for her? Why can't she do it herself?
A.: Why is the rotting beet not in the compost bin?
Mom: I'll carve out the good parts.
Dad: You can sit down now. The offending beet has been relocated.
Mom: I still don't understand why you couldn't do that yourself.
A.: I still don't understand why it was there to begin with.
Dad: I still don't understand why we're still talking about this.