"C'mon, relax little guy."

Your father, Bruce Wayne, whispered, squeezing your small shoulder as he looked about at the attendees of his gala.

"Here, we're going to welcome some people. If you don't want to talk to anyone, just take a sip from your cup and I'll handle it, okay?"

Your father grinned, handed you your sippy cup, and crouched down to your level, waiting for your response.