Date to the Dance

by TheTiredQuill

Rating: everyone
Tags: Slice of Life
Length: 1045

Snails introduces his mom to his date for the annual school dance.

Snails comes home to his mother inquiring wether or not he has a date to the dance, which turns into one of the hardest conversations Snails will ever have.

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2013-12-22 05:20:02 UTC

Homo Horse Hyperventilation

"Snails, is that you honey?" A honey colored mare called from the living room of their somewhat cramped but homey Ponyville home.

"Yeah mah," the colt replied, the sound of the door shutting trailing his voice.

"How was school dear?" The mare asked, the book she'd been reading prior to her soon coming home now folded on the nightstand beside her, bookmark in place.

"Ah y'know...same ol' same ol," her son replied with a nervous chuckle as he slunk into the room. His mother raised her brow at her only son but merely chalked his out of place behavior up to the mysteries of puberty.

"What about that big school dance all the fillies and colts are raving about? I remember you telling me that you wanted to go, did you ever end up finding a date?" Immediately, her son's face went from a flustered embarrassment to a look of shock and unrest; his mother's inquisition and concern quickly following suit.

"What's the matter honey?" She cooed as she waited for her son to answer. A handful of tense seconds passed before a realization seemed to befall her, her facial features becoming significantly softer and more sympathetic.

"All the mares at school already have dates huh?" Her son went rigid for a second before letting out a shuddering and uneven breath.

"No, actually I..." He tears his eyes away from his mother's for a moment, seeming to contemplate something before tentatively listing his eyes back toward hers. "Already have a date..."

The look on her face instantly shifts to one of happiness as she hears the news, the sudden and overwhelming effervescence seeps from her voice as well.

"That's great honey! When do I get to meet her?"

Snails stiffens again, every muscle fiber in his body taught as elastic as the question passes his inner ear. There's is yet another moment of awkward, protracted silence before the young colt musters the nerve to speak, and even then his sentence is such a discordant jumble of utterances and grunts that it's hard for his mother to understand her deeply flustered son.

"Dat'skindawhyIwantedtotalktoya." The honey colored mare frowned as her son's words slipped past his lips in a much faster and more precarious manner than he normally spoke.

"Snails honey," she started, her look of matronly concern present again. "Is something the matter? You don't seem quite yourself today."

"My date!" He blurted, surprising even himself with his sudden outcry; and once he realized how out of character he was acting, he took a moment to collect himself, inhaling greedy, exorbitant amounts of air and letting it back out through his nose before attempting to speak again, this time sounding more calm and concise but never-the-less still shaken up. "I need to talk to you...about my date"

His mother, only seeming to get more befuddled as their conversation went on, decided to proceed warily as she was now for all the world utterly and completely confused. "What about your date honey?"

"I uh..." the young colt began, nervously pawing the floorboards with his hoof. "I wanted you to uh..." Snails pauses for a second, choosing his next word carefully; "meet her."

Snails' mother's frowned lessened slightly, but there was still a definitive downward curvature to her mouth as she spoke. "Well alright...is she here now?"

There was naught but a solemn nod from her son, his eyes downcast and his stance slightly slumped.

"Snails honey are you sure you're ok?" He doesn't answer, instead he simply slinks to the side to reveal the pony who'd been standing in the darkness of the family's kitchen for some time now.

All of the previous stretches of awkward quiet paled in comparison to this one stretch of lengthy, paralyzing silence. Snails' mother looked from her son to the unnamed pony that had stepped into their living room and then back to her son, trying to process what exactly it was she was seeing.

"Snails honey..." she breathed, sounding completely and utterly taken aback. “Is this your date?"

Snails merely nodded his head in reply, his head hung low. His mother turned her attention to the pony now standing beside her son, her face clearly portraying her incredulousness.

"So you're my son's date?" She began, sounding like she was vetting a potential employee or job prospect instead of one of her children's love interests. The pony in question-who's gaze had been as solemn and nervous as her son's-stiffened almost immediately after being addressed, their gaze shooting from the floorboards to that of the older mare.

"Umm...y-yes m'am" The pony stammered, shaking so vehemently that Snails' mother felt the familiar pangs of sympathy prodding at her insides.

"What's your name?" The question couldn't have been more simple, laced with no ill-will or animosity of any kind, never-the-less the adolescent pony standing before the confused mother visibly flinched when the question was posed.

"R-rumble…" he squeaked, shrinking under the hard, steely gaze of his coltfriend's mother. She continued to stare him down for nearly ten seconds before she breathed out a heavy, audible breath, her shoulders visibly relaxing.

"Just have him home before midnight." Both Snails and Rumble's heads shot up upon hearing this, the cringes on their faces slowly melting away as their expressions turned to ones of relief. Snails stole a glance at his mother, who was tossing her son a look that was supportive and apologetic all at the same time. At this Snails moved to embrace his mother, his eyes brimming with tears.

"I'll always love you son, no matter what."

"Thanks mom" he muttered, nuzzling into the crook of her neck. They stayed that way for a scant minute before pulling apart, both looking on the verge of full blown water-works.

"Now go have fun at the dance you two" she urged, shooing the two colts toward the door with a wave of her hoof. Snips gave his mother one last curt hug before trotting to catch up to his coltfriend who'd already made it out the door. The honey colored mare smiled a wistful smile as her son bolted out the door and into the now darkened streets of ponyville, both proud of him and scared for him at the same time.