"Stop trying to break out of your stroller."

Your mother, Lois Lane, grumbled and tightened the seatbelt on your stroller to keep you from escaping.

"Hey-hey, stop it. If you keep trying to flee, I'm going to get your father. Do you want that?"

She crouched, gave you a serious look, and placed a sippy cup on your lap, patted your head.