Thor does not immediately answer her question. Instead, he turns over a pair of sewing needles in his large hand curiously, until he finally tightens a fist over them and stabs at the air in experimentation. With a slow grin, he looks up at Sif.
"I say these trinkets are small, but they will do! Not as effective as my hammer, but I think with the proper effort, and that weak looking, multicolored rope to bind the giants, you could indeed be on to something!"
Once upon a time, he would have really been so oafish as to make that statement in a serious fashion. Now he he made it while scarcely managing to restrain himself from a bout of laughter. Shaking his head and discarding the pointy instruments of death (at least, in his hands they would be), he wraps his arms around the slender waist of Sif.
"Let's continue thinking about your proposal inside inside, while I give you a full body massage, and then we can.. move on to certain other things."
There was no fear in him of refusal, but he swept Sif up into his arms and walked back into their home as though carrying a great prize anyway, in the stereotypical manner of the old days. Only despite his antics, she was truly in many ways like a prize to him, to be cherished, looked after, and held in high esteem.