[Hank is about to change the subject — ask about the asparagus, or something — when he turns and sees Connor.]

The hell are you doing?

[Muttering expletives under his breath:] Jesus. Fuck. Goddamn.

[He grabs Connor’s wrist, leading him over to the sink. Turning on the cold water, whether or not he can even feel it.]

How is reaching into the oven like that staying safe, Connor?