Jo wants to roll her eyes, and her elbows end up on her knees, because it's annoying and sometimes it almost feels impossible. She won't give up, doesn't, can't consider it, won't ever, but she doesn't want blanket obedience in him any more than she ever expected it in his as a child -- at least not when it wasn't about keeping him alive, or keeping other people from dying at his hands, when he could not control the circumstances. She doesn't want him to agree simply because she snaps.

She wants him to understand, and it's the frustrated anger, with the process more than him, in all of that make her teeth stay closed.
She'll tell him, maybe not again until he does understand. Or maybe she'll have to figure out some way to explain that he will already.