It's a family!

[littleonewhosteals]

"Mama!" Rags asks, coming bursting into her kitchen at a very ungodly sort of hour. He skids to a stop when he spots that she's not around.

"Mom! Mother! Mama! Kaasan!." He opens the fridge and takes out a muffin he had left inside there when he visited the day before. The rest of the household was out for the day, shopping or working or at school, but Trixie, too uncomfortable to travel far, is always home.

"I brought you something!" he calls out, mouth full of muffin.

Comments

[wishiwasatree]

Fortunately Trixie's up at the asscrack of dawn, piddling around to keep herself occupied from the ache in her hips and the near constant heartburn whenever she eats anything the tiniest bit spicy or with too much vinegar. She's hanging some of the laundry when her eldest barges on in, letting him wear himself out a little before she calls back to him.

"In the back! Keep your fucking voice down!"

[littleonewhosteals]

He raises up with a grin and a mouthful of muffin, wandering into the back to find her hanging the clothes.

"Tal can do that for you, you know," he points out. Again, still with a mouth full of muffin. "He likes helping. He's scrubbing the fucking floors today. Using maiden tears and the purest soap or - something like that."

[wishiwasatree]

She grins right back at him, always glad to see her son even if he is the greatest pain in the ass known to man.

"Yeah, and what about tomorrow, or the day after? Ain't fair to rely on him every time I need drawers washed."

[littleonewhosteals]

"Why not? I do." He sees nothing wrong with it. Tal wants to help, so Rags lets him help.

"I'm gonna go out and get more milk. What do you want? I'll pay for it." Probably.

[wishiwasatree]

"Knowing you won't get caught don't mean I'll condone theft," she replies. "My jacket pocket -- there's some money there. Use that."

She's worked hard to get to know her neighbors and doesn't want to ruin any good will she might have formed by being on her best behavior.

[littleonewhosteals]

Rags only takes from tourists, and only assholes at that. It's not a tight code, but it's a code all the same. However, there's nothing in the world that would get him to go against his mother's wishes.

"Yeah, alright," he laughs. "You got a list?"