Carr laughs, can't help but laugh, miming hitting himself round the back of the head, the kind that stings like bloody murder if it's a woman with enough provocation - and lord knew he'd given his mother enough of that over the years. "That's a skelp," he explains.
He picks up on her mood change, keeping an eye out himself - and he has the added benefit of wolf-strength smell and hearing, as well as better eyesight in the dark, to spot anything coming.
"You look just fine to me, love. I'd appreciate the help, though."