"Aww, now what would you go and throw things around for?"
Does she recognize that tone for what it is? Absolutely. Does she sense the threat behind that glare, even if she's not aware of the exact "plan," so to speak? Of course.
Buuut... ask her if she cares.
"Maybe I ought to find you a sippy cup if you're going to spill... or have such a tantrum."
She's mocking him in front of the plebs. It's grating enough to make him want to go below the belt. Gritting his teeth together as sparks continue to jump from his antennae, doing his best to prevent a full outburst, his words instead come out in a low hiss.
"Do you really want to be talking about sippy cups in front of everyone right now, babydoll?"
"Maybe I do."
That first part is a bit louder. A bit more grating. It's a challenge. He wanted to be a brat, she'll play along, and she will damn well remind him that he isn't good at it. But, in an unprecedented display of mercy(?), she lowers her voice and leans in for the rest.
"Seems like you do need one, after all. Maybe I oughta call Melissa to get one for you."
