Disclaimer: Just playing, will put everything back when finished.
It's true, she's not particularly observant when it comes to table manners. Growing up with a full membership to the eat-it-all-now-because-you-might-not-get-the-chanc e-later club will do that to a girl.
And she has gotten better about actually tasting her meals in recent years, but after spending weeks in a world that didn't know what a cheeseburger was, she's more than a little enthusiastic about chowing down at Granny's.
She's already inhaled one burger with fries, and is working on her second when she feels a hand on her arm.
"Slow down, Emma. It's not going to grow legs and run away from you," Snow reassures, but her response is to raise an eyebrow while swallowing the large bite she'd just taken out of burger two.
"It just might, knowing this town," she shoots back, moving to take another bite. But Snow's grip tightens, stopping her progress.
"What now?" she frowns, meeting her mother's eyes and noting the empathy and a touch of pain in them with confusion.
"I may have grown up in a castle, but I know."
"Know what?" Emma asks, even more confused, until Snow looks at her food and back at her and realization smacks her upside the head.
Snow had been a thief once too, a fugitive. She knew hunger, knew the fear of not knowing when the next meal would come. And now she's here telling her it's okay to slow down, to savor, with the implicit promise that there will be more should she need it.
Such a simple thing, who knew it could suddenly make her vision blurry.
Don't you dare cry on your burger, Emma, she tries to chastise herself, but once again Snow comes to her rescue.
"Not to mention your face is covered in ketchup," Emma hears her sigh, a wet napkin making contact with her cheek.
"Ack! Stop it!" she jumps, trying to wriggle away, her outburst causing David and Henry to look up from their own conversation and burst out laughing.
"Gramma's just making up for lost time, Mom," Henry manages to squeak through his giggles.
"Watch out kid," Emma smirks back, wiping away the wet spot and looking at Henry's own condiment covered face.
"Grandmothers are even more smothering when it comes to their grandkids."
He never sees the wet napkin coming, and this time it's her turn to laugh.
And after everybody's faces are pronounced clean, Emma continues to eat her second burger, and happily takes on a third.
Her pace, however, is considerably slower.