Pepper didn't tell him they could do that with the bottle. Why didn't they always do that? That was so much more efficient than the pot and the water and the-- Tony had to skip back to stop crowding Wanda curiously as she shifted away from the sink, looking completely fascinated with the fussing baby as if he totally knew this mythical milk technique all along. Because he was so incredibly competent, he gladly took the bottle back, strolling quite confidently, thank you, away from Wanda's interfering hands to kick out a chair at the breakfast table into a warm flare of sunlight from the window. He didn't need Anthony's advice, either. He was probably just as confused by this whole bottle process as Tony was. He had better options at home, after all.
There was only a questionable moment where Tony seemed to seriously consider leaving the infant on the table before he sat, then figured out for himself how this could go poorly. It was clear skies after that, and Tony eventually was sitting cross legged on the chair with Anthony quite happily (after only a moment's agony and loss as Tony took the pacifier from him) cuddled with the long awaited bottle finally in within his gummy hold. There, see? Totally competent.
"There's always been this part of me, I guess it's still there, that assumed I would, you know, go nuclear, get married and have the kids and the whole deal. I guess because my parents made it work, their parents made it work, I don't really have, you know, a reference for anything else, but..." Tony started to explain, unprompted, mostly down at Anthony who couldn't give less of a fuck but didn't seem to mind him talking so much this time, as long as he kept up this feeding thing. Tony shrugged, acknowledging Anthony's feelings on the issue, and finished for his sake, "I've kind of been wasting time, huh?"