Peter was laughing, so tangled up in limbs with nephews and girlfriend that phasing was out of the question. He was getting plastered with silly string, which was just making him laugh harder, and every time Monty shifted his position, a knee was digging into his ribs, making him laugh harder.
Still. He could spare an ounce of effort. Peter pushed out with telekinesis, knocking back several of the spray cans. One was heavier than the others. That one rolled back, right up to Toby's foot.
Get them off of me! Peter replied, laughing too hard to get out any kind of verbal reponse.