The Best Gift Of All

We wake up earlier then everyone else on Christmas morning wearing our pajamas. We usually take a peak or two before waking up mom and dad. We aren't tired once we see the wonderful presents under the tree and the half eaten cookies. Everyone knows that if Santa eats the whole cookie, he's probably an impostor. We jump on our parent's bed, even my twenty-one year old brother, and we wait impatiently for them to get up. My dad always gets coffee first which takes a while, and then when he comes back out, waiting for his coffee, we look under the tree and see that Santa has brought us what we wanted. A good laugh. Of course I'm the only one who knows what and who it is exactly, but of course, my dad recognizes it's mane and cutie mark. It's puffy pink mane, and it's cutie mark with three balloons on it. And then I get on my knees and stare at it's cutie mark . . . It only has one balloon, and there's no string attached.

The first thing that comes to my mind is that Santa has given us the pink maned pony for a reason. Obviously we need a good laugh every once in a while, but, I didn't expect him to bring us a pink pony. A pink pony that's supposed to have three balloons for a cutie mark. Two blue, one yellow. But instead, she only has a yellow balloon. Pinkie Pie, only has a yellow balloon!

"Ha! I bet he wouldn't have made fun of me now!" I thought to myself. My teenage brother always teases me about watching My Little Pony. Now I bet he'll be sorry when he can't get an answer out of me when he asks, "What is it?"

I kneel closer, as Pinkie Pie is still yawning. She has a big red bow wrapped around her neck, and a tag around her hoof that read, From Santa To - The bottom part of the tag is smudged, covered in pony drool probably, but it doesn't bother me. I didn't get anything that I wanted this year though, from Santa that is. After all the cursing, the fighting, the clopping . . . I didn't deserve a present, so I didn't even bother to send in a letter. But, he still brought our family something . . . And a whole lot of milk duds in our stockings.

No one said a word about the pony I just happened to be cuddling in my arms as we opened our presents. I would set Pinkie down for a few minutes, and notice that she was eating all the wrapping paper. I heard goats ate paper, a lot . . . But I've never heard of a magical pink pony eating paper with tape around the edges. I wasn't that surprised though. Pinkie is known to be wild in many ways, but now she was a filly. A little filly with half a cutie mark, and puffy hair that got in her mouth every few minutes.

My dad got up and waddled over to the kitchen to collect his coffee. He took a sip, and the smell spread to each and everyone of us. Even Pinkie. It wasn't a very pleasant smell, but it wasn't horrible. It's one of those smells you can deal with after a while.

The pony closed her eyes and flared her nostrils, standing up on her two back legs and pushing the air away from her with her hooves. She did  that till she fell onto the presents. She cried for a large box had poked her in the back. Just remember, I'm not the one to make people laugh. You could say that I am a mix of Rainbow Dash, Applejack, and even Fluttershy, but I'm not even close to making people laugh like Pinkie does with ponies.

What should I do? A funny face? Cheesy jokes? Funny faces!?" I thought to myself, and then I noticed that I said funny faces twice so . . . I picked up baby Pinkie, and held her in one arm, as I tried my best to make utterly creepy yet hilarious faces. I stuck my tongue out once or twice, and she giggled and chuckled, but it wasn't enough. She was heavy, very heavy for a filly, it was getting harder to make her laugh. And soon, I lost my balance and ended up falling over on some wrapping paper. It covered my eyes, and I continued to make silly faces. She laughed, and this time, it wasn't a giggle, or a chuckle. It was a laugh . . . A REAL laugh! I removed the wrapping paper from my eyes, and saw her cute little pink face. Her eyes were closed, she flared her nostrils,w her mouth was wide open . . . No teeth . . . And then a light appeared. I looked over at her flank, and the string to the yellow balloon appeared. It was like a puzzle! When she cried, we needed to find a way to make her laugh, then her cutie mark would start to appear. Soon, we all ended up laughing our hearts out. Her laugh was just so cute and adorable, we had to join her little laugh festival.

I had taken her tag off, and started sweeping some wrapping paper to the corner of the room. Pinkie was taking a nap on the stairs, but Christmas wasn't over yet. The tag started to shine like Pinkie's flank had done. The first word appeared, and now read, To The-

By then I was sure it was a puzzle. The more she laughed, the tag would reveal to us, who it was for, and her cutie mark would appear. My brothers continued to open their presents, filled with so much joy, as I sat on the steps, and Pinkie sat in my lap.