Murdoch just sat at the kitchen table hiding behind his newspaper watching and enjoying the sight unfolding before him.

There standing at the door frame of the entrance to the kitchen stood his youngest, shirt tail hanging out, pants full of dirt, hair messed up, dirty face with sweaty streaks showing on his cheeks. 
 
 A sudden, "Whew-uuu!" was heard followed by the sound of the spurs entering the kitchen.  As quickly as the spurs were heard, they came to an abrupt halt.

"H-m-m-m-m-m, I smell chocolate cake.  Just what the soul needs after a hot day working with horses."  Rubbing his hands together, he made his way to the table and found the delightful treat.  "Yup, just what the body needs too."  Aiming towards the beckoning frosting, he reached out with his finger, but then he felt a hard slap.  "No niño, es para la cena!"  (No boy, it is fordinner.)

Mami Maria stood there waiting to see if she needed to slap him one more time. "Aye, Mamita, I'm hungry.  Un poquito, si?"(Just a little yes)  He smiled at her and tilted is head a bit.  Smiling back, she turned around and giggled.  "NO!" 
  
He sat down clumsily, huffed, and watched Maria work around the kitchen. 
  
"Hard day son?"  His father thought he offer some distraction by possibly starting a conversation.
  
"Huh?  Oh, just the usual."  The last word was given with a disgruntling drawl. Murdoch returned to his newspaper and waited.
  
Johnny tapped his fingers on the table, hummed, removed his spurs, played with the spurs, looked at Maria, and leaned back on his chair, waiting for the right moment to strike.
  
Murdoch did not say one word. He did not want to distract his plotting son.  He'd just  pretend to be reading waiting with anticipation. 'Wonder when he is going to make his move?' 
  
Finally, Maria left the kitchen.  Once she was out the door, Johnny jumped out of the chair, rushed to get a plate, knife, fork and glass.  He glanced over his shoulder, laughed, sliced a large piece of cake, placed it on the plate, poured himself a glass of milk, glanced over his shoulder again, all the while his eye brows were dancing a jig.
  
Murdoch cleared his throat.  "You know she is going to get very angry at you."
  
Letting out a chuckle, sliding passed his father and balancing his soul food, he replied, "Better to ask for forgiveness than permission." Murdoch put down his newspaper and watched his mischievous son scurry up the stairs wiggling his head with delight.
  
That expression on his son's triumphant face brought back memories, as he had time and time again been witness to this act of thievery.

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There standing at the frame of the entrance to the kitchen stood his baby boy, shirt tail hanging out, pants full of dirt, hair messed up, dirty face with sweaty streaks showing on his cheeks.  Releasing a loud, "W-e-e-e, is hot out!" He shuffled over to the table, "Howdy Pa'."
  
"Howdy, son, I take it you had a hard day?"  Murdoch lowered his newspaper and lifted his boy onto a chair next to him.  The look on little Johnny's face was a clear indication of what was to follow.
  
"H-m-m-m-m-m, I see cha-co-let cake."  Rubbing his little hands together, he stared at the delightful treat aiming his sight at the tempting frosting. "Yup, my fav-row-it, yum."  He reached out with his little finger when he felt a mild slap on his hand.  "No niño, es para la cena!"  His Mami Maria stood arms crossed waiting to see if her little one listened to her.
  
"Mami Malia,  'm hungry now.  Por favor, un poquito, si?"  He gave her a half smile and a pout.  She lifted her eyebrows, smiled, offering him some hope, but responded, "NO!"
  
With his eyes scrunched up, he sat there staring at his target, he huffed, placed his hands and chin on the table, hummed a bit, shifted his cheek on his hands while looking over to his Mami Maria.  He frowned and placed his attention back to the cake and waited.
 
Finally, a mischievous giggled was heard.  Curiously glancing over the newspaper, his Pa witnessed the 'quick draw' action of his little one.
  
Faster than a rattle snake could strike, he'd reached out with his little hands, dug into the cake, and pulled out a big chunk.  Feeling triumphant, he jumped off the chair and made his great escape leaving a trail of crumbs and frosting en route to the Great room. 
  
Laughing Murdoch informed Maria of the theft that had just unfolded. "He did it again Maria."  Murdoch looked over to see the crumbs on the floor.
  
"I know senor.  I have eyes behind my head."  Going back to the routines, she too laughed.
  
"You spoil that boy Maria."  shaking his head, he added, "Thank you."

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Murdoch couldn't help but laugh at this joyous memory.  Maria's return to the kitchen brought Murdoch out of his reminiscing state. 
  
"Did he get his piece of cake patrón?"  She smiled and went on to prepare dinner.
  
"Yes Maria, he did at that.  You spoil him, as always."  He smiled with approval. 
  
"Aye, senor, you know I love him like my own.  What good is it to have a boy if you cannot spoil him just little."  She laughed at her niños ploys.