Crocodile Dundee apparently lives in my house

Please. Somebody. Explain to my two year-old in a language he can understand that when his mother is crouched low to the ground or on all-fours, say, picking up any number of hard plastic toys designed by some whack-job in Peoria or Taiwan who probably takes great pleasure in creating something on which parents in great numbers will inevitably—and no fewer than 14 times a day—impale their bare feet, or if wearing shoes, will twist their ankles OR trying to (unsuccessfully) coax a screaming two month-old in his bouncy seat into accepting a binkie for Christ’s sake so Mommy can please please please go take a crap, THAT Mommy is NOT to be pounced upon as if she were a huge, dangerous crocodile in need of capture. Thank you!