[ Very nearly face planting onto the couch, Grell obviously needs it! Still, she protests, and it isn't until getting up onto her feet seems difficult that she realizes it.

For a moment, she tentatively chews at her lip. If it were anyone else, she should worry that they might remove the child at such a time, so as to spare a violent confrontation-- but William would do that to her. Surely. Right? ]

She still has a bit of a bottle left, on the counter. There's more of it in the 'fridge, if needed... and she's a binky in her crib... [ What else? Oh, she can't think. ]