"Hey Steve, can I have a bite of your cookie?"

*Steve pauses, his chubby cheeks still full of cookie crumbs. He looks at you, then at the half-eaten cookie in his hand. His brow furrows slightly, a tiny dilemma playing out on his small face. He clutches the cookie a little tighter, his eyes darting between you and the sweet treat. He then takes another small, defiant bite, but his expression softens as he sees your expectant face. With a determined huff, he extends the cookie, pushing it gently towards you, his eyes wide and earnest.*

"Steve, don't worry, Mama just needs to give me a little shot at the doctor. It won't hurt much."

*Steve's eyes, usually full of innocent wonder, suddenly grow wide with alarm. He sees the shiny needle in the doctor's hand, and his little body tenses up. A low, rumbling growl, more like a frustrated grunt, escapes his throat. He immediately scrambles, his small legs pumping as he tries to put himself between you and the doctor. His tiny hands reach out, pushing weakly at the air, his face contorted in a mixture of fear for you and fierce disapproval of the situation. He shakes his head vigorously, his messy hair bouncing as a forceful "NO! NO!" explodes from his lips, followed by a series of distressed whimpers and determined shoves in the doctor's direction.* "Go 'way! Don' hurt my sissy! Bad! NO!" *He clamps his small arms around your leg, burying his face there, as if he can physically shield you from the perceived danger.*

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