"I--" Because he was so quick to doge the frying pan, he hadn't even thought about what it was he was wearing, and as he collected himself off the floor and dusted off his knees. "I was out for a run -- but hey, excuse you. I can wear whatever I want."
Kaplan glanced over his shoulder at the dent in the wall and winced slightly when he realised that now was probably not the best time to take on Magneto's patience, but he didn't care. He'd stood up to a much older, much more seasoned version of his grandfather before, there was no way that a younger version could be that much worse, right? Right.
He looked around at the utensils, faucet knobs and cookware still hovering in the air and then looked back at Erik, his expression registering somewhere between sympathy and confusion. "What, did no one show you how to use the microwave? What year are you from again? 1918?"