Get your shit together.  Take a deep breath.  Let it out.  Slowly.  Sloowwwwly.  There.  Two more like that.  In.  Out.  In.  Out.  Okay.  That's good enough.  "Just.  Just, shut up.  I'm going to keep feeding you, and I'm going to guide you, and we're going to talk about this when neither of us is angry.  And.  And you're going to stay here.  Right in my lap.  And."  And what, Carol?  You don't have anything else to say.  He's not wrong, he's just a.  Unbidden, Carol flashes back to one of the times they'd tried making out for guiding.  Tim had exhausted himself down to nothing that day, and it had felt like kissing a corpse. That had soured her on kissing, maybe for life.  Maybe this time you'll be brave enough to say it out loud.  Instead of letting it fester and rot.

Maybe this is is - salvageable.  Maybe I haven't ruined anything.  "Okay."  Brief little pause to let it hit her.  "Stinkhole."

"You little shit!"  After the rollercoaster of emotions, that of all things broke the tension?  Laughing, Carol playfully slaps his chest.  "You spilled the soy sauce all over yourself, you goof!  What am I supposed to dip these in now, huh?"  She decides to get 'revenge' by taking the next wonton and "mopping up" the soy sauce from Tim's chest.  Needless to say, it mostly just leaves crumbs on Tim's pecs.  And of course, Sinkhole is an excellent partner.  She'll brush them off him.

They both wind up zeroed, afterwards.