I hate muffins...but I love my grandma!
Hello. My name is Derpy. I’m eight and I HATE muffins. Why? They’re ugly looking, and they probably don’t taste that good. And they’re a tricky, lying food. I mean, they set themselves up to look like yummy little cupcakes without frosting, but they’re not. Hmph! I wouldn’t ever want to eat those dumb things.
I do LOVE my grandma, though. She’s a very sweet old lady. She lives on the other side of town in Ponyville. Every weekend I stay at her house overnight. Saturday morning I go to her house, and we go out to breakfast at her favorite place.
When we go there she always orders the SAME…THING! A banana-nut muffin and a blueberry muffin. She always tries to offer me one. She tries to share them with me, even though I always turn her down. It’s become something like a game for us. I guess I can’t make fun of her, because I always order the same thing too: an everything bagel with cream cheese and a chocolate milkshake. It’s like a tradition for us.
I didn’t use to love my grandma so much, but she’s been so helpful to me when I need to get away from school and life for a few days. I have a defect in my eyes, and they point in different directions. Almost every one of my classmates makes fun of me for it. Lyra and Bon-Bon are the only ones who stick up for me when the bullies start in on me. However, even they can’t make everything go away.
I came to look forward to the weekends most of all. It’s hard living like this. Because of my wall-eyes I tend to mistake distance and usually am a total klutz, tripping and falling all over the place. Sometimes I choose to go around school with one eye closed just so I can feel a little more normal and not be so clumsy.
I found that being with her makes me feel better. Nothing matters as much. When you’re just sitting there on the far side of town, where you don’t expect to run into much ponies who might try to hurt your feelings, and enjoying a nice chocolate shake and a bagel, the world just seems so much better.
She was very patient with me, and she didn’t lose her temper, like, ever. During our special breakfast I would tell her all about how my week had been. Sometimes I was all happy and trumpeting the good things that had happened that week. Sometimes I was sad and down and I could barely stomach anything, just being quiet as I swirled my milkshake with the straw.
I remember one of those times. I had thought it was going to be one of the good times, but on Friday I had been helping move the glass cage of the class hamster. Although I couldn’t prove it I was certain I saw one of my classmates put their hoof out to trip me. I fell over, and the cage went flying, smashing into a million pieces. The only good thing about that was that the hamster wasn’t in it. It was in a toy like a ride around ball so the cage could be cleaned. Everyone laughed at me, and mimicked my fall. It took almost an hour to clean up all the glass and the bedding and scrub the floor clean.
On top of that, when I accused the pony of tripping me he denied it and called me a liar. Not even the teacher was on my side. She pointed out that it wasn’t like this was the first time I had broken something on accident, and I shouldn’t blame others for my mistakes. I was so hurt.
Then on top of THAT my parents got a little upset with me because we didn’t have another cage for the hamster, so they had to pay for another one. And on top of THAT I got my hoof caught on the coffee table and knocked it over, breaking my mom’s favorite vase. She got upset with me and had me go to my room.
Needless to say, by the time the morning came around I was so glad it was Saturday. I got up early and ran to her house, not wanting to wait for my parents. I did leave them a note so they’d at least know where I was. They usually flew me there, so I don’t know if I even saved any time by running, but I wasn’t in the mood to wait.
She was just getting up when I arrived. She was surprised to see me. I told her we needed to go out as soon as possible. I could see on her face that she understood what I was asking.
The two of us sat down at our usual hangout, at our usual booth. We ordered our usual breakfast, me a bagel and a chocolate shake, and her a blueberry and banana-nut muffin. When it arrived, though, I didn’t touch it.
“Well, come on, then,” said my grandma. “What’s troubling you, Derpy?”
I fiddled with the straw in my shake. “I’ve been having a lot of problems… like ALWAYS!”
My grandma laughed a bit, pushing her plate towards me. “Well, I’m sure it’s nothing a muffin wouldn’t fix.”
I couldn’t help it. I laughed. “No!” I said strongly.
“Take it! Take it!”
I didn’t want to be cheered up, but I laughed a little bit more. “I don’t want those dumb things.” I couldn’t stop a smile from coming to my face.
“Well, why not?”
“Those are old people food.”
“Oh, really? You’ve never seen anyone else eat a muffin before? Come on,” she said again, pushing the plate again. “You’ve never even tried one. How do you know you won’t like it?”
“Because it’s ugly!”
“Just try it!”
“No!” We had done this so many times, but I was already starting to feel better.
“So stubborn!”
“Well, so are you! How many times are you going to ask me?”
“Until you finally eat one!”
“I don’t want to. They’re probably dry, and taste like healthy stuff.” I took a sip of my shake. “Mmmm. Now that’s something that goes down good.”
She smiled down at me. “Feeling okay now?”
I sighed, my smile fading. “Yeah… I just had a really bad day yesterday. “ So I told her all about it. She just let me talk without interrupting. By the end I was almost sobbing. I hated how I couldn’t be like the other kids.
My grandma came around the table to sit next to me, putting her hoof around me. “Aw, Derpy. Don’t cry. You’re doing fine. You’ll get there one day. Besides, do you really want to be like all the other kids? Wouldn’t that make you a bully too?”
I blinked a few times, before looking up at her. “Wow… I didn’t think about it like that.”
“Keep being your wonderful self, Derpy, and don’t let anyone ever make you feel bad for being who you are.“ She gave me a kiss on my forehead, giving me a loving nuzzle.
“Okay, Grandma,” I said happily, slurping some more of my shake as I rested against her, feeling her love surrounding me.
A few years passed after that. Things pretty much stayed the same. Every weekend I would visit my grandma. I still had to deal with my bullies at school, but their words didn’t mean nearly as much to me as they did back then. I became much better friends with Lyra and Bon-Bon, and the three of us did many things together. It was a lot of hard work, but I’m not nearly as klutzy as I used to be.
One Saturday morning, when I was twelve, I was all ready for my usual weekend trip. I was hungry, and I had some good stories to tell. When we were getting ready to leave a pony knocked on the door. He was dressed sharply, and had a grim look on his face. I’d never seen him before.
I heard him say to my mom that my grandma had passed away in the night. It felt like my heart had stopped. I began crying. I heard my mom call my name as I went running out past the man.
I didn’t believe him. I couldn’t believe him. I WOULDN’T believe him!
Today was our special day. She had to be there for me! I ran and ran and ran. At one point I heard my mom calling after me, but I ignored her. I avoided her.
I finally made it to her house, panting up a storm. I gasped in air as I walked around, calling out her name, to no avail. I sat down, tears dripping down my eyes.
I suddenly brightened up. I was being silly. Of course she wouldn’t be here. She was at our favorite restaurant, naturally. I was being so silly.
It only took a few minutes for me to get there. I pushed open the doors, looking right at our usual booth… and it was empty. I let out a heavy breath, holding back more tears. I started feeling numb inside. I left and went back to her house, collapsing on her bed as I sobbed.
A short while later my mom arrived, and she held me as I cried.
The funeral process was simple, as she didn’t have many friends and we were her only family around.
For the next few days even my worst bullies left me alone. I walked around in a daze, not knowing what I was doing.
When Saturday came around again I left my house and began the trek to my grandma’s house. There was a piece of me that wouldn’t accept the truth. There was a part of me that was sure it had all been a big nightmare.
I headed to our favorite place, and sat at our favorite booth. Time passed, but she didn’t show. My mind was whirling and swirling with all kinds of thoughts.
I was suddenly pulled away from myself by the waitress, asking if I knew what I wanted. I looked across from me, to the empty spot that my grandma should have been occupying. The place she had always been to be there for me… but now she wasn’t.
I looked away from the seat, my stomach feeling tight, and I said to the waitress, “One chocolate shake and… and…” I started to ask for my usual bagel with cream cheese, but I couldn’t get it out. Finally I finished, “One banana-nut and blueberry muffin, please.”
She came back a few minutes later, placing the glass and plate on the table. As I looked at the muffins sitting there I thought back to all the times she had tried to push them on me, and tears began running down my eyes. I picked up the blueberry muffin, taking a big bite out of it. It was a tiny bit dry... but it tasted really good! As soon as I finished my first bite I took another one. I wolfed it down, and then started on the second one. It was amazing! I had no idea that muffins were that awesome!
All this time I had been wrong. Now I know why she kept getting them every week. I wanted to honor my grandma, and what she had taught me, so I’d come back here every week just as before. I’ll sample all the muffins I can, and show that even without her here next to me she lives on in my heart.
After all, someone has to eat them. Now that she can’t anymore, why shouldn’t it be me?
