Post by greenie on Dec 21, 2009 22:08:47 GMT 10
Title: Mud
Rating: PG
Prompt: Feast
Summary: Mattes comes to help keep Little occupied...but they just end up causing even more trouble together.
Notes: Four picture things in total this time, I had to put the fourth one in a separate post below because it wasn't letting me put all four in this one.
“There’s my favourite Goodwin!”
Clary scowled, and Little beamed and threw herself at Mattes. He picked her up and spun her around, and then winked at Clary from above Little’s head.
Her expression didn’t change. “I’ll be upstairs,” she said. “Both of you keep quiet and don’t damage anything.”
They both watched her go, and then Little wriggled in Mattes’ arms. “I want to play outside!”
“It’ll be cold,” he warned.
Little shrugged. “You can wrap me up in all my warm things,” she told him. “And it’s sunny out there, and Mama never lets me play outside by myself, and she hardly ever comes out with me.” She pouted, and Mattes grinned.
“Alright then, let’s get you all bundled up.”
……………….
“Pass me the apple pasties please, Uncle Matty.”
Mattes looked carefully at all the piles of mud, trying to remember which was which. Finally, he reached out and scooped up a handful from one pile, and then offered it to her.
She scowled, looking just like her mother. “That’s the bread,” she told him, and he hastily dumped it back.
“Silly Uncle Matty,” he said, and offered her some mud from another pile.
“That’s the meat pasties, you looby!”
“Where are the apple ones then?”
Little just shook her head. He had no idea if she thought this was fun for him or if she was just tormenting him for her own fun. He tried the cake, the ham (twice), the soup, the sweetmeats, the berries, the sausages, and the raisin patties before he got the apple pasties by pure luck. Little grinned and was just about to pretend to eat it when she froze, her eyes wide.
Mattes turned around slowly, and found Clary behind him just as he’d expected. He gulped.
“Do you want to eat some feast too, Mama?” asked Little tentatively.
Clary crossed her arms and glared at them both. “No, I don’t,” she snapped. “Look at you both, you’re completely covered in mud, and –“
She was cut off as a large dollop of mud hit her square in the face.
Little’s eyes widened as she looked between her furious mother and Uncle Mattes as he sat there grinning at her. Mattes waved the muddy spoon. “I’ve been practicing,” he announced.
The next thing Little knew, Uncle Mattes was face-down in the mud with her mama’s boot planted solidly in the middle of his back. Her lower lip trembled, and Mattes saw.
“I’m alright,” he told her. “Your mama wouldn’t actually hurt me.” He got to his feet and grinned at her, his arms held out to the sides. “See? I’m fine.”
“Inside,” ordered Clary. “Straight into the bath, both of you.” She glared at Mattes. “I’ve still got reports to do, and I’m not having any of my Dogs turning up for duty looking filthy. And leave your loincloth on like last time.”
Little giggled. “Yeah, Uncle Matty. I don’t want to look at your icky boy bits.”
“Does that mean you don’t want to be tickled by my icky boy fingers?” He wiggled them at her. “Because they’re coming to get you.” Little squealed and ran, and Mattes was about to follow her when Clary caught hold of the back of his collar – about the only part of him that was free of mud.
“Anything with so much as a spot of mud gets taken off at the door,” she ordered. “I’m not having any of that filth coming inside my house.”
“Bath time with Uncle Matty! Bath time with Uncle Matty!” Little was singing inside the house, already running around in just her shift and loincloth.
Clary’s eyes narrowed as she remembered the last bath they’d had together and why her daughter was so happy about another one now. She gave Mattes a solid poke. “No silly games this time, no splashing, and keep the water in the tub.”
Mattes just grinned at her. “Of course, Sarge.”
She rolled her eyes and kicked his ankle lightly. “Just get moving.”
“There’s my favourite Goodwin!”
Clary scowled, and Little beamed and threw herself at Mattes. He picked her up and spun her around, and then winked at Clary from above Little’s head.
Her expression didn’t change. “I’ll be upstairs,” she said. “Both of you keep quiet and don’t damage anything.”
They both watched her go, and then Little wriggled in Mattes’ arms. “I want to play outside!”
“It’ll be cold,” he warned.
Little shrugged. “You can wrap me up in all my warm things,” she told him. “And it’s sunny out there, and Mama never lets me play outside by myself, and she hardly ever comes out with me.” She pouted, and Mattes grinned.
“Alright then, let’s get you all bundled up.”
……………….
“Pass me the apple pasties please, Uncle Matty.”
Mattes looked carefully at all the piles of mud, trying to remember which was which. Finally, he reached out and scooped up a handful from one pile, and then offered it to her.
She scowled, looking just like her mother. “That’s the bread,” she told him, and he hastily dumped it back.
“Silly Uncle Matty,” he said, and offered her some mud from another pile.
“That’s the meat pasties, you looby!”
“Where are the apple ones then?”
Little just shook her head. He had no idea if she thought this was fun for him or if she was just tormenting him for her own fun. He tried the cake, the ham (twice), the soup, the sweetmeats, the berries, the sausages, and the raisin patties before he got the apple pasties by pure luck. Little grinned and was just about to pretend to eat it when she froze, her eyes wide.
Mattes turned around slowly, and found Clary behind him just as he’d expected. He gulped.
“Do you want to eat some feast too, Mama?” asked Little tentatively.
Clary crossed her arms and glared at them both. “No, I don’t,” she snapped. “Look at you both, you’re completely covered in mud, and –“
She was cut off as a large dollop of mud hit her square in the face.
Little’s eyes widened as she looked between her furious mother and Uncle Mattes as he sat there grinning at her. Mattes waved the muddy spoon. “I’ve been practicing,” he announced.
The next thing Little knew, Uncle Mattes was face-down in the mud with her mama’s boot planted solidly in the middle of his back. Her lower lip trembled, and Mattes saw.
“I’m alright,” he told her. “Your mama wouldn’t actually hurt me.” He got to his feet and grinned at her, his arms held out to the sides. “See? I’m fine.”
“Inside,” ordered Clary. “Straight into the bath, both of you.” She glared at Mattes. “I’ve still got reports to do, and I’m not having any of my Dogs turning up for duty looking filthy. And leave your loincloth on like last time.”
Little giggled. “Yeah, Uncle Matty. I don’t want to look at your icky boy bits.”
“Does that mean you don’t want to be tickled by my icky boy fingers?” He wiggled them at her. “Because they’re coming to get you.” Little squealed and ran, and Mattes was about to follow her when Clary caught hold of the back of his collar – about the only part of him that was free of mud.
“Anything with so much as a spot of mud gets taken off at the door,” she ordered. “I’m not having any of that filth coming inside my house.”
“Bath time with Uncle Matty! Bath time with Uncle Matty!” Little was singing inside the house, already running around in just her shift and loincloth.
Clary’s eyes narrowed as she remembered the last bath they’d had together and why her daughter was so happy about another one now. She gave Mattes a solid poke. “No silly games this time, no splashing, and keep the water in the tub.”
Mattes just grinned at her. “Of course, Sarge.”
She rolled her eyes and kicked his ankle lightly. “Just get moving.”
“There’s my favourite Goodwin!”
Clary scowled, and Little beamed and threw herself at Mattes. He picked her up and spun her around, and then winked at Clary from above Little’s head.
Her expression didn’t change. “I’ll be upstairs,” she said. “Both of you keep quiet and don’t damage anything.”
They both watched her go, and then Little wriggled in Mattes’ arms. “I want to play outside!”
“It’ll be cold,” he warned.
Little shrugged. “You can wrap me up in all my warm things,” she told him. “And it’s sunny out there, and Mama never lets me play outside by myself, and she hardly ever comes out with me.” She pouted, and Mattes grinned.
“Alright then, let’s get you all bundled up.”
……………….
“Pass me the apple pasties please, Uncle Matty.”
Mattes looked carefully at all the piles of mud, trying to remember which was which. Finally, he reached out and scooped up a handful from one pile, and then offered it to her.
She scowled, looking just like her mother. “That’s the bread,” she told him, and he hastily dumped it back.
“Silly Uncle Matty,” he said, and offered her some mud from another pile.
“That’s the meat pasties, you looby!”
“Where are the apple ones then?”
Little just shook her head. He had no idea if she thought this was fun for him or if she was just tormenting him for her own fun. He tried the cake, the ham (twice), the soup, the sweetmeats, the berries, the sausages, and the raisin patties before he got the apple pasties by pure luck. Little grinned and was just about to pretend to eat it when she froze, her eyes wide.
Mattes turned around slowly, and found Clary behind him just as he’d expected. He gulped.
“Do you want to eat some feast too, Mama?” asked Little tentatively.
Clary crossed her arms and glared at them both. “No, I don’t,” she snapped. “Look at you both, you’re completely covered in mud, and –“
She was cut off as a large dollop of mud hit her square in the face.
Little’s eyes widened as she looked between her furious mother and Uncle Mattes as he sat there grinning at her. Mattes waved the muddy spoon. “I’ve been practicing,” he announced.
The next thing Little knew, Uncle Mattes was face-down in the mud with her mama’s boot planted solidly in the middle of his back. Her lower lip trembled, and Mattes saw.
“I’m alright,” he told her. “Your mama wouldn’t actually hurt me.” He got to his feet and grinned at her, his arms held out to the sides. “See? I’m fine.”
“Inside,” ordered Clary. “Straight into the bath, both of you.” She glared at Mattes. “I’ve still got reports to do, and I’m not having any of my Dogs turning up for duty looking filthy. And leave your loincloth on like last time.”
Little giggled. “Yeah, Uncle Matty. I don’t want to look at your icky boy bits.”
“Does that mean you don’t want to be tickled by my icky boy fingers?” He wiggled them at her. “Because they’re coming to get you.” Little squealed and ran, and Mattes was about to follow her when Clary caught hold of the back of his collar – about the only part of him that was free of mud.
“Anything with so much as a spot of mud gets taken off at the door,” she ordered. “I’m not having any of that filth coming inside my house.”
“Bath time with Uncle Matty! Bath time with Uncle Matty!” Little was singing inside the house, already running around in just her shift and loincloth.
Clary’s eyes narrowed as she remembered the last bath they’d had together and why her daughter was so happy about another one now. She gave Mattes a solid poke. “No silly games this time, no splashing, and keep the water in the tub.”
Mattes just grinned at her. “Of course, Sarge.”
She rolled her eyes and kicked his ankle lightly. “Just get moving.”
“There’s my favourite Goodwin!”
Clary scowled, and Little beamed and threw herself at Mattes. He picked her up and spun her around, and then winked at Clary from above Little’s head.
Her expression didn’t change. “I’ll be upstairs,” she said. “Both of you keep quiet and don’t damage anything.”
They both watched her go, and then Little wriggled in Mattes’ arms. “I want to play outside!”
“It’ll be cold,” he warned.
Little shrugged. “You can wrap me up in all my warm things,” she told him. “And it’s sunny out there, and Mama never lets me play outside by myself, and she hardly ever comes out with me.” She pouted, and Mattes grinned.
“Alright then, let’s get you all bundled up.”
……………….
“Pass me the apple pasties please, Uncle Matty.”
Mattes looked carefully at all the piles of mud, trying to remember which was which. Finally, he reached out and scooped up a handful from one pile, and then offered it to her.
She scowled, looking just like her mother. “That’s the bread,” she told him, and he hastily dumped it back.
“Silly Uncle Matty,” he said, and offered her some mud from another pile.
“That’s the meat pasties, you looby!”
“Where are the apple ones then?”
Little just shook her head. He had no idea if she thought this was fun for him or if she was just tormenting him for her own fun. He tried the cake, the ham (twice), the soup, the sweetmeats, the berries, the sausages, and the raisin patties before he got the apple pasties by pure luck. Little grinned and was just about to pretend to eat it when she froze, her eyes wide.
Mattes turned around slowly, and found Clary behind him just as he’d expected. He gulped.
“Do you want to eat some feast too, Mama?” asked Little tentatively.
Clary crossed her arms and glared at them both. “No, I don’t,” she snapped. “Look at you both, you’re completely covered in mud, and –“
She was cut off as a large dollop of mud hit her square in the face.
Little’s eyes widened as she looked between her furious mother and Uncle Mattes as he sat there grinning at her. Mattes waved the muddy spoon. “I’ve been practicing,” he announced.
The next thing Little knew, Uncle Mattes was face-down in the mud with her mama’s boot planted solidly in the middle of his back. Her lower lip trembled, and Mattes saw.
“I’m alright,” he told her. “Your mama wouldn’t actually hurt me.” He got to his feet and grinned at her, his arms held out to the sides. “See? I’m fine.”
“Inside,” ordered Clary. “Straight into the bath, both of you.” She glared at Mattes. “I’ve still got reports to do, and I’m not having any of my Dogs turning up for duty looking filthy. And leave your loincloth on like last time.”
Little giggled. “Yeah, Uncle Matty. I don’t want to look at your icky boy bits.”
“Does that mean you don’t want to be tickled by my icky boy fingers?” He wiggled them at her. “Because they’re coming to get you.” Little squealed and ran, and Mattes was about to follow her when Clary caught hold of the back of his collar – about the only part of him that was free of mud.
“Anything with so much as a spot of mud gets taken off at the door,” she ordered. “I’m not having any of that filth coming inside my house.”
“Bath time with Uncle Matty! Bath time with Uncle Matty!” Little was singing inside the house, already running around in just her shift and loincloth.
Clary’s eyes narrowed as she remembered the last bath they’d had together and why her daughter was so happy about another one now. She gave Mattes a solid poke. “No silly games this time, no splashing, and keep the water in the tub.”
Mattes just grinned at her. “Of course, Sarge.”
She rolled her eyes and kicked his ankle lightly. “Just get moving.”
Rating: PG
Prompt: Feast
Summary: Mattes comes to help keep Little occupied...but they just end up causing even more trouble together.
Notes: Four picture things in total this time, I had to put the fourth one in a separate post below because it wasn't letting me put all four in this one.
“There’s my favourite Goodwin!”
Clary scowled, and Little beamed and threw herself at Mattes. He picked her up and spun her around, and then winked at Clary from above Little’s head.
Her expression didn’t change. “I’ll be upstairs,” she said. “Both of you keep quiet and don’t damage anything.”
They both watched her go, and then Little wriggled in Mattes’ arms. “I want to play outside!”
“It’ll be cold,” he warned.
Little shrugged. “You can wrap me up in all my warm things,” she told him. “And it’s sunny out there, and Mama never lets me play outside by myself, and she hardly ever comes out with me.” She pouted, and Mattes grinned.
“Alright then, let’s get you all bundled up.”
……………….
“Pass me the apple pasties please, Uncle Matty.”
Mattes looked carefully at all the piles of mud, trying to remember which was which. Finally, he reached out and scooped up a handful from one pile, and then offered it to her.
She scowled, looking just like her mother. “That’s the bread,” she told him, and he hastily dumped it back.
“Silly Uncle Matty,” he said, and offered her some mud from another pile.
“That’s the meat pasties, you looby!”
“Where are the apple ones then?”
Little just shook her head. He had no idea if she thought this was fun for him or if she was just tormenting him for her own fun. He tried the cake, the ham (twice), the soup, the sweetmeats, the berries, the sausages, and the raisin patties before he got the apple pasties by pure luck. Little grinned and was just about to pretend to eat it when she froze, her eyes wide.
Mattes turned around slowly, and found Clary behind him just as he’d expected. He gulped.
“Do you want to eat some feast too, Mama?” asked Little tentatively.
Clary crossed her arms and glared at them both. “No, I don’t,” she snapped. “Look at you both, you’re completely covered in mud, and –“
She was cut off as a large dollop of mud hit her square in the face.
Little’s eyes widened as she looked between her furious mother and Uncle Mattes as he sat there grinning at her. Mattes waved the muddy spoon. “I’ve been practicing,” he announced.
The next thing Little knew, Uncle Mattes was face-down in the mud with her mama’s boot planted solidly in the middle of his back. Her lower lip trembled, and Mattes saw.
“I’m alright,” he told her. “Your mama wouldn’t actually hurt me.” He got to his feet and grinned at her, his arms held out to the sides. “See? I’m fine.”
“Inside,” ordered Clary. “Straight into the bath, both of you.” She glared at Mattes. “I’ve still got reports to do, and I’m not having any of my Dogs turning up for duty looking filthy. And leave your loincloth on like last time.”
Little giggled. “Yeah, Uncle Matty. I don’t want to look at your icky boy bits.”
“Does that mean you don’t want to be tickled by my icky boy fingers?” He wiggled them at her. “Because they’re coming to get you.” Little squealed and ran, and Mattes was about to follow her when Clary caught hold of the back of his collar – about the only part of him that was free of mud.
“Anything with so much as a spot of mud gets taken off at the door,” she ordered. “I’m not having any of that filth coming inside my house.”
“Bath time with Uncle Matty! Bath time with Uncle Matty!” Little was singing inside the house, already running around in just her shift and loincloth.
Clary’s eyes narrowed as she remembered the last bath they’d had together and why her daughter was so happy about another one now. She gave Mattes a solid poke. “No silly games this time, no splashing, and keep the water in the tub.”
Mattes just grinned at her. “Of course, Sarge.”
She rolled her eyes and kicked his ankle lightly. “Just get moving.”
“There’s my favourite Goodwin!”
Clary scowled, and Little beamed and threw herself at Mattes. He picked her up and spun her around, and then winked at Clary from above Little’s head.
Her expression didn’t change. “I’ll be upstairs,” she said. “Both of you keep quiet and don’t damage anything.”
They both watched her go, and then Little wriggled in Mattes’ arms. “I want to play outside!”
“It’ll be cold,” he warned.
Little shrugged. “You can wrap me up in all my warm things,” she told him. “And it’s sunny out there, and Mama never lets me play outside by myself, and she hardly ever comes out with me.” She pouted, and Mattes grinned.
“Alright then, let’s get you all bundled up.”
……………….
“Pass me the apple pasties please, Uncle Matty.”
Mattes looked carefully at all the piles of mud, trying to remember which was which. Finally, he reached out and scooped up a handful from one pile, and then offered it to her.
She scowled, looking just like her mother. “That’s the bread,” she told him, and he hastily dumped it back.
“Silly Uncle Matty,” he said, and offered her some mud from another pile.
“That’s the meat pasties, you looby!”
“Where are the apple ones then?”
Little just shook her head. He had no idea if she thought this was fun for him or if she was just tormenting him for her own fun. He tried the cake, the ham (twice), the soup, the sweetmeats, the berries, the sausages, and the raisin patties before he got the apple pasties by pure luck. Little grinned and was just about to pretend to eat it when she froze, her eyes wide.
Mattes turned around slowly, and found Clary behind him just as he’d expected. He gulped.
“Do you want to eat some feast too, Mama?” asked Little tentatively.
Clary crossed her arms and glared at them both. “No, I don’t,” she snapped. “Look at you both, you’re completely covered in mud, and –“
She was cut off as a large dollop of mud hit her square in the face.
Little’s eyes widened as she looked between her furious mother and Uncle Mattes as he sat there grinning at her. Mattes waved the muddy spoon. “I’ve been practicing,” he announced.
The next thing Little knew, Uncle Mattes was face-down in the mud with her mama’s boot planted solidly in the middle of his back. Her lower lip trembled, and Mattes saw.
“I’m alright,” he told her. “Your mama wouldn’t actually hurt me.” He got to his feet and grinned at her, his arms held out to the sides. “See? I’m fine.”
“Inside,” ordered Clary. “Straight into the bath, both of you.” She glared at Mattes. “I’ve still got reports to do, and I’m not having any of my Dogs turning up for duty looking filthy. And leave your loincloth on like last time.”
Little giggled. “Yeah, Uncle Matty. I don’t want to look at your icky boy bits.”
“Does that mean you don’t want to be tickled by my icky boy fingers?” He wiggled them at her. “Because they’re coming to get you.” Little squealed and ran, and Mattes was about to follow her when Clary caught hold of the back of his collar – about the only part of him that was free of mud.
“Anything with so much as a spot of mud gets taken off at the door,” she ordered. “I’m not having any of that filth coming inside my house.”
“Bath time with Uncle Matty! Bath time with Uncle Matty!” Little was singing inside the house, already running around in just her shift and loincloth.
Clary’s eyes narrowed as she remembered the last bath they’d had together and why her daughter was so happy about another one now. She gave Mattes a solid poke. “No silly games this time, no splashing, and keep the water in the tub.”
Mattes just grinned at her. “Of course, Sarge.”
She rolled her eyes and kicked his ankle lightly. “Just get moving.”
“There’s my favourite Goodwin!”
Clary scowled, and Little beamed and threw herself at Mattes. He picked her up and spun her around, and then winked at Clary from above Little’s head.
Her expression didn’t change. “I’ll be upstairs,” she said. “Both of you keep quiet and don’t damage anything.”
They both watched her go, and then Little wriggled in Mattes’ arms. “I want to play outside!”
“It’ll be cold,” he warned.
Little shrugged. “You can wrap me up in all my warm things,” she told him. “And it’s sunny out there, and Mama never lets me play outside by myself, and she hardly ever comes out with me.” She pouted, and Mattes grinned.
“Alright then, let’s get you all bundled up.”
……………….
“Pass me the apple pasties please, Uncle Matty.”
Mattes looked carefully at all the piles of mud, trying to remember which was which. Finally, he reached out and scooped up a handful from one pile, and then offered it to her.
She scowled, looking just like her mother. “That’s the bread,” she told him, and he hastily dumped it back.
“Silly Uncle Matty,” he said, and offered her some mud from another pile.
“That’s the meat pasties, you looby!”
“Where are the apple ones then?”
Little just shook her head. He had no idea if she thought this was fun for him or if she was just tormenting him for her own fun. He tried the cake, the ham (twice), the soup, the sweetmeats, the berries, the sausages, and the raisin patties before he got the apple pasties by pure luck. Little grinned and was just about to pretend to eat it when she froze, her eyes wide.
Mattes turned around slowly, and found Clary behind him just as he’d expected. He gulped.
“Do you want to eat some feast too, Mama?” asked Little tentatively.
Clary crossed her arms and glared at them both. “No, I don’t,” she snapped. “Look at you both, you’re completely covered in mud, and –“
She was cut off as a large dollop of mud hit her square in the face.
Little’s eyes widened as she looked between her furious mother and Uncle Mattes as he sat there grinning at her. Mattes waved the muddy spoon. “I’ve been practicing,” he announced.
The next thing Little knew, Uncle Mattes was face-down in the mud with her mama’s boot planted solidly in the middle of his back. Her lower lip trembled, and Mattes saw.
“I’m alright,” he told her. “Your mama wouldn’t actually hurt me.” He got to his feet and grinned at her, his arms held out to the sides. “See? I’m fine.”
“Inside,” ordered Clary. “Straight into the bath, both of you.” She glared at Mattes. “I’ve still got reports to do, and I’m not having any of my Dogs turning up for duty looking filthy. And leave your loincloth on like last time.”
Little giggled. “Yeah, Uncle Matty. I don’t want to look at your icky boy bits.”
“Does that mean you don’t want to be tickled by my icky boy fingers?” He wiggled them at her. “Because they’re coming to get you.” Little squealed and ran, and Mattes was about to follow her when Clary caught hold of the back of his collar – about the only part of him that was free of mud.
“Anything with so much as a spot of mud gets taken off at the door,” she ordered. “I’m not having any of that filth coming inside my house.”
“Bath time with Uncle Matty! Bath time with Uncle Matty!” Little was singing inside the house, already running around in just her shift and loincloth.
Clary’s eyes narrowed as she remembered the last bath they’d had together and why her daughter was so happy about another one now. She gave Mattes a solid poke. “No silly games this time, no splashing, and keep the water in the tub.”
Mattes just grinned at her. “Of course, Sarge.”
She rolled her eyes and kicked his ankle lightly. “Just get moving.”
“There’s my favourite Goodwin!”
Clary scowled, and Little beamed and threw herself at Mattes. He picked her up and spun her around, and then winked at Clary from above Little’s head.
Her expression didn’t change. “I’ll be upstairs,” she said. “Both of you keep quiet and don’t damage anything.”
They both watched her go, and then Little wriggled in Mattes’ arms. “I want to play outside!”
“It’ll be cold,” he warned.
Little shrugged. “You can wrap me up in all my warm things,” she told him. “And it’s sunny out there, and Mama never lets me play outside by myself, and she hardly ever comes out with me.” She pouted, and Mattes grinned.
“Alright then, let’s get you all bundled up.”
……………….
“Pass me the apple pasties please, Uncle Matty.”
Mattes looked carefully at all the piles of mud, trying to remember which was which. Finally, he reached out and scooped up a handful from one pile, and then offered it to her.
She scowled, looking just like her mother. “That’s the bread,” she told him, and he hastily dumped it back.
“Silly Uncle Matty,” he said, and offered her some mud from another pile.
“That’s the meat pasties, you looby!”
“Where are the apple ones then?”
Little just shook her head. He had no idea if she thought this was fun for him or if she was just tormenting him for her own fun. He tried the cake, the ham (twice), the soup, the sweetmeats, the berries, the sausages, and the raisin patties before he got the apple pasties by pure luck. Little grinned and was just about to pretend to eat it when she froze, her eyes wide.
Mattes turned around slowly, and found Clary behind him just as he’d expected. He gulped.
“Do you want to eat some feast too, Mama?” asked Little tentatively.
Clary crossed her arms and glared at them both. “No, I don’t,” she snapped. “Look at you both, you’re completely covered in mud, and –“
She was cut off as a large dollop of mud hit her square in the face.
Little’s eyes widened as she looked between her furious mother and Uncle Mattes as he sat there grinning at her. Mattes waved the muddy spoon. “I’ve been practicing,” he announced.
The next thing Little knew, Uncle Mattes was face-down in the mud with her mama’s boot planted solidly in the middle of his back. Her lower lip trembled, and Mattes saw.
“I’m alright,” he told her. “Your mama wouldn’t actually hurt me.” He got to his feet and grinned at her, his arms held out to the sides. “See? I’m fine.”
“Inside,” ordered Clary. “Straight into the bath, both of you.” She glared at Mattes. “I’ve still got reports to do, and I’m not having any of my Dogs turning up for duty looking filthy. And leave your loincloth on like last time.”
Little giggled. “Yeah, Uncle Matty. I don’t want to look at your icky boy bits.”
“Does that mean you don’t want to be tickled by my icky boy fingers?” He wiggled them at her. “Because they’re coming to get you.” Little squealed and ran, and Mattes was about to follow her when Clary caught hold of the back of his collar – about the only part of him that was free of mud.
“Anything with so much as a spot of mud gets taken off at the door,” she ordered. “I’m not having any of that filth coming inside my house.”
“Bath time with Uncle Matty! Bath time with Uncle Matty!” Little was singing inside the house, already running around in just her shift and loincloth.
Clary’s eyes narrowed as she remembered the last bath they’d had together and why her daughter was so happy about another one now. She gave Mattes a solid poke. “No silly games this time, no splashing, and keep the water in the tub.”
Mattes just grinned at her. “Of course, Sarge.”
She rolled her eyes and kicked his ankle lightly. “Just get moving.”