There is a rich tradition in my family of making excuses.
Excuses for not helping each other, excuses for not going places, excuses for not doing things, excuses for not working.
Our favourite thing to say is I can't because... when what we usually really mean is I don't want to.
I have a sister who regularly arranges to go to my mother's for dinner, or out to places with her, and then texts at the last minute to say I can't come because... when what she really means is I don't want to come out and play today.
If I suggest anything out of the ordinary to my mother (even something as simple as a new style of hand bag), her response will always, without fail, be I can't because... and then some random and not-entirely-valid excuse is wheeled out. My legs hurt, my arms hurt, I can't lift that, I can't reverse into that space, I can't walk over there, I can't, I can't, I can't. It's infuriating.