ooc: gonna try out this present tense stuff. apologies for the mess ups I’m sure I’ll make.
Maggie knows better then to touch the child of another mother without permission. She’d once been the mother who had swatted hands of strangers away, protective and cat like in her stance that no one could touch her offspring without express permission. That had changed as the children got older, and gained autonomy; the change had been hard but good.
“Hello, Chuckles,” Maggie says, the worn look around her eyes brightens and pulls up with a smile. “Would you like me to measure him? I could make a few patterns,” she offers. The offer isn’t something that Maggie feels burdened by, in fact it feels rather right. This young mother with her large, doe eyes and soft features reminds her of herself at 20. A young mother, thankful for the club to help her and Davy get by. She isn’t sure who Adelaide’s Davy is, or if she has one, but Maggie feels kinship she isn’t tempted to speak about aloud.
“It would be nice to have some new hands for sewing. Most of the people here don’t know how, or don’t have the patience for it. It was such a lost art before, and now… well, I suppose department stores could be raided. Homes. But these men love their cuts.” Her voice is far away for a moment, but she lands back on earth and back in that little RV a moment later.
“You’ll have to tell me about Sarge and Rodeo’s earlier days. I can’t help but think that they got into an awful lot of trouble back then too.”