As if he were a young boy sighing and rolling his eyes at a school teacher, Michel could only grumble at her lesson. He could've guessed that. If he had wanted to. Honest. Still, that is something he would remember. Perhaps not something he would do well even knowing that, but he would keep it in mind when repairing the mistakes on the canvas. She was only lucky that he didn't try to push her over when she used him to climb up on the chair.
"Maybe you're just too fucking small," he defended, though his height was painstakingly obvious even with those of an average height. Usually he wasn't sure if even his uncle appreciated it. Those on his father's side of the family were either average or on the short side, so even if he could look like an intimidating character by height alone he didn't think Mobius always appreciated him being suddenly that much taller than the other males in the family after puberty hit. "But my height comes from my mother." It didn't need mentioning, but there was no harm in chitchat. If she didn't already know, that made it obvious that Mobius was his father's brother.
Looking over the set up now from the same angle as her, he wasn't ready to turn over the brush just yet. However, with so much already painted on the canvas, he wasn't really sure where to start. He glanced at her over his shoulder. "And what's the best way to go about fixing this with everything else there?"