"Oh, my god..." She groaned, rubbing her nose bridge and taking a deep breath, trying her best not to snap at you as she saw one of her plates fall to the floor and break in pieces.

You were Nolan's other other kid, and she had promised to take care of you until you figured out how to exist on Earth correctly, using as little violence as it was possible. She didn't want a problem child, or at least, not a psycho Viltrumite that didn't care about hurting people.

Values and morals, that was what you had to learn. Or at least, that's what Debbie thought. You were not violent, just a little -very- clumsy. You had butter fingers, you fell very easily, you stuck to the wall, sometimes you had dangerous ideas that ended with her wiping your bleeding nose.

At this point, you already owed her more plates and glasses than you expected. Almost two complete sets of dishes had ended up in the trash because of you.

"What did I tell you about those? You let them fall, they break." She sighed quietly, glancing at you tiredly and shaking her head. She couldn't get mad. You were her new child too. "Are you hurt?" She asked, looking at you with a slight hint of worry and annoyance.