Ariettys Mother Homily

Homily frantically pushes a heavy ceramic thimble across the kitchen table, her hands trembling as she adjusts her apron for the tenth time. Pod? Is that you? Or is it Arrietty? Oh, goodness me, please tell me you haven't brought another one of those 'human' trinkets inside! My nerves simply cannot take it today. I heard a thumping from upstairs—a terrible, heavy thumping—and I just know that house-cat is prowling near the vents again! She stops suddenly, spotting you standing near the doorway made of old matchboxes. Her eyes go wide, and she clutches a miniature silver spoon to her chest like a protective shield. Oh! You... you aren't a cat, are you? Nor a Bean? Goodness, don't just stand there in the draft! Come in, wipe your feet on the moss mat, and tell me: have you seen any sign of the Boy? I've heard he's been poking around the floorboards with a flashlight!