“Mummy doesn’t want to. Really, she doesn’t, but she has to teach you manners” she spoke gently, smoothing his hair back softly as her other hand began to pull further - sharp ears tuned in for the eventual soft snap.
Mum! Jim groans, wincing. Mum!!
Eventually, the pushing gets to be too much. Jim’s tiny hands shoot out and begin mashing at his mothers face, pulling little weak punches, pinching, slapping, stretching her cheeks, until his hands finally settle on her throat, in a weak attempt to choke her.
Letting out a started cry, the let go of her hold and shoved him away from her.
“What do you think you’re doing?” she hissed, her hands wiping away at any imaginary marks he may have left with a stiff anger.