A Day In The Life of Big MacIntosh

by AppleMelody

Rating: everyone
Tags: Slice of Life
Length: 5773

Ever a pony of few words, nopony really knows what goes on inside this stallion's head as he goes about his daily buisness.

Big MacIntosh in three words: Strong. And. Silent.

But because of this, nopony really knows of the thoughts that run through his head as he completes his daily tasks - some more orthodox than others. What does Equestria look like through his eyes?

(initial quality is not indicative of future quality)

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2014-07-12 19:20:41 UTC

The Morning

Some ponies reckon that, just because I'm a farmer, I'm woken up to the sound of a cockerel every morning. And, to some extent I guess, that would be true, but it hasn't really been the case since Apple Bloom came along. She's eleven, I'm nineteen, so I have a good few memories of life before the little yellow bundle of joy came along. AJ doesn't really remember such a time, even thought she was five when Apple Bloom arrived. But I suppose that's because she kinda had to grow up pretty fast after our parents passed. What with Granny getting on a bit, Apple Bloom being too young, and me being too...well, me, the duty of keeping the farm going fell squarely on AJ's shoulders, but we all do our best to lessen the load. Nowadays, I'd say me and AJ take 40% of the work each, Apple Bloom and Granny take about 10% each. I do the chores, Applejack handles full on buisness, since I'm too shy to haggle. The best I can do is stand by AJ and pretend to look formidable as she handles the actual business.

AJ has kinda taken the farm into her own hooves. Ma and Pa died when I was eleven, Applejack was eight, and little Apple Bloom was only three. She barely remembers them, and sometimes feels a little sad when she can't. But not for too long, me or AJ're always there to cheer her up. In my opinion, she got the good end of the stick. You can't miss what you never really had.

Anyway, I was woken up at my usual time of 6:30am, by the sound of Apple Bloom screaming her morning mantra,

"WHOO-HOO!" her voice rang in from across the hall, "It's a new day! A whole new day to earn mah cutie mark!" If it weren't for the fact that only AJ can tie her bow (Apple Bloom can't reach, Granny's hooves are too shaky and old, and my hooves are just plain huge) she'd probably already be out the door. Of my family, I'd say that I had the least "preparation" to do. I run a brush through my mane, just enough to make it sit flat...ish, pull on my yoke and I'm good to go. Every single one of us washes every day. I have a wash every evening, Applejack washes in the morning (to wake herself up, then she has to brush her mane properly, her tail too, tie it back and then put her hat on - see what I mean about me having to do the least?) Apple Bloom always goes just before dinner, when the day's crusading is done, when we can finally clean her up and she'll stay clean - at least until tomorrow. Granny washes sometime during the late morning, after we've all left to do our chores or left for school.

Back to the morning routine thing, Apple Bloom has to wait through all of "Applejack's Morning Ritual" (as I call it) for AJ to tie in her bow. But for all the time Applejack takes, I can't really blame her. My mane is short, so's my tail, so it's hard to get tangled. Applejack likes having a long tail and mane (one of the few female social conventions she doesn't mind) so she has to tie them back or they'll get muddled up and she'd be up all night every night trying to get it untangled. Granny's so slow and old that nopony feels right waking her up before she's good and ready. She'll usually come down about ten and get straight started on cooking lunch, and then on making apple pies, apple fritters, apple bumpkins, apple sauce, apple candies and anything else under Celestia's sun that has apples in it.

Because I have so little to do in the way of grooming, I can often score an extra five minutes or so as a quick lie-in. In a farmer's life, lie-in's that last longer than ten minutes are few and far between. So the extra five minutes I can get on a near-daily basis are a small blessing. The bed's still warm, I'm still comfy because I haven't moved a muscle, Smarty Pants is-

...er...Smarty Pants is...somewhere in Twilight's place. I mean, he's her doll, right? I didn't take him...and use him as a teddy-bear...SHUT UP!

Ahem, anyway: as a result of all this, I'm almost always the first one downstairs. That means I;m the one who makes breakfast. It's the same every morning. Coffee for me and Granny, orange juice for Applejack and Apple Bloom (Apple Bloom is too young for coffee, and AJ, for some reason, doesn't like the taste) two slices of toast for me, no butter; one slice with butter for both Apple Bloom and Applejack; bowl of cereal for Apple Bloom, an apple and a glass of milk for AJ. Simple enough, really.

Applejack is always the second one down, because Apple Bloom insists of packing her saddlebag for school the second before she leaves. So whilst I make breakfast, AJ sets about making a packed lunch for Apple Bloom. Carton of apple juice, cheese sandwich, some-sort-of-apple-based-treat-(usually-pie), normal apple and two bits for something extra if she wants it. The two bits often aren't spent, instead put in her piggy bank once she gets home from school.

After that's all done, me and AJ sit down and enjoy the few minutes of quiet we have before the day really begins. In applebucking or cider season, we discuss the day's work, in normal times, we either sit in silence or discuss current events. The most exciting early-morning-conversation we have on a regular basis is who's gonna drop Apple Bloom off at school. It was usually AJ until that incident with the love poison. I like Cheerilee with a friend, and the feeling's mutual, but Apple Bloom and her nutty friends have got it into their heads that we're secretly in love, so I'm usually dragged along in the mornings and forced into conversations with Cheerilee. Could be worse, I suppose, she is a very nice mare. To keep things interesting we've started making up stories, and saying them just loud enough so Apple Bloom and her friends hear it. Apple Bloom hasn't come into my room ever since I told Cheerilee that I have a pet spider in there. Of course, that's a lie, though for a brief period when I was six, I tried to keep a fruit bat as a pet. Sadly, I had to let Fruity go because he kept dive-bombing AJ. It wasn't Fruity's fault though, because Applejack insisted on eating her apples right next to his nest, and as slowly as ponily-possible.

After Pa died, I had to become the stallion of the family. I do most of the heavy lifting, and a straight half of the applebucking. AJ does the rest of both of those things. We both help Granny cook, all four of us help make cider, and we all help keep the house clean and tidy. In short, we all do our part, we all earn our keep. Like I said, 40, 40, 10, 10.

But even though I do exactly the same amount of work as Applejack (possibly less if you count AJ's practically raising Apple Bloom as her own) I always feel like I do the most. Not in the angsty teen "it's not fair!" kind of way, just, I feel like I do. Honestly, it gives me a sense of pride. I certainly take on a fair few of the jobs that nopony else wants to do (except maybe AJ, but she'll only to them if I'm not around to do them for her) and I take on a few jobs that nopony else can do. But we'll get to that later.

For now, I was sitting, eating my dry toast and drinking my coffee, thinking about what needed doing. It was that sweet rest-period between Zap-Apple season and applebuck season. Our yearly calendar is something like this:

December - March: Doing what we can to make it through the winter, selling cider mostly, but no actual work in the fields

April - June: Zap-Apple season

July - September: Applebuck season.

September - November: Cider season

Anyway, bottom line, work in the fields was pretty light about this time. This was usually the time of year when me and Applejack go around and fix anything that needs fixing. We have plenty of money from the Zap-Apple jam, and plenty of time. Not to mention, the weather's good so we can work late, and leave things out to set or dry overnight. Also, the storms are usually on their way by now, we want to the roof working at it's best. After Ma and Pa died, there was the three-year-long period in which we really had to scrape by. Me and AJ were too young to help around the farm to any decent degree, and Granny, even then, was too old to do that work, so we had to hire help.

I was just thinking that I might go into town and maybe see a friend for the day when Apple Bloom came racing down the stairs, pounced on her chair and started attacking her breakfast. Applejack watched this with mild amusement, and mouthed "Good luck" before she slammed her hoof down on the edge of her plate, sent the apple on it flying into the air, catching it in her mouth and swallowing the whole thing in one bite. Then she stood up and went out to start her chores.

This is one thing I will never understand. She has a smaller mouth than me, she's younger than me, yet I can't for the life of me do that. I either miss my mouth completely, or the apple is too big for me to swallow in one. AJ gets it square in her mouth every time, and has no problem swallowing it whole. This is one of the few things about her that never fail to annoy me. Most of the time we get on fine, being adults (near enough) and having more important things to do (like run the farm, look after Apple Bloom and Granny ect), but there are some things about me that will always rub her the wrong way, and vice-versa. As a result, I started eating with my mouth open, causing her to wrinkle her muzzle, then stick her tongue out at me before she left the kitchen for the fields.

Apple Bloom was giving me that look whilst she ate her cereal. That "how am I going to make you confess your love to Miss Cheerilee today?" look. It was usually something like "pretend it's teacher's day so I can buy flowers on the way to school, then make Big Mac give them to her" Cheerilee had been kind enough to feign hay-fever the fifth time it happened, so nopony else would grow suspicious of the flowers and think we really were in a relationship. She's a lovely mare, and a great friend, but honestly, just not my type.

Apple Bloom stayed staring at me, and I started to get a little nervous. That filly is an evil genius, and her obsession with potions didn't stop with the love poison. She visits Twilight with Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle every week for lessons in potion making, and she practices both at home (she turned the spare room into a lab) and at Zecora's hut. Zecora's nice, and I never grow tired of her stories. I've always wondered what life beyond Equestria's borders is like, where the Griffons and Zebras and Dragons live, and Zecora has no end of incredible stories. We should have her round for dinner... I think, and we should, to thank-slash-apologise her having to deal with Apple Bloom constantly. It's a wonder she hasn't blown up Zecora's house yet - although she did come close with our guest bedroom a few weeks ago. Thankfully, she was sensible enough to buck it out of the window when it started making a strange noise. Bottom line, we were thinking of putting a flower bed in front of the farmhouse, and the plowing has been taken care of.

After I've dropped Apple Bloom off at school, had a nice (if slightly pressured) talk with Cheerilee, I make my way back through town to meet up with Applejack. In the times of year when there isn't much work to do in the fields, the two of us can afford to stand by the apple cart and sell - at the very least, it means we can serve more ponies, and it's a little less boring. Of course, I'm not necessarily needed, because AJ can handle herself just fine on her own, she's proven that many a time. I stand by the cart partly to keep her company, and partly to keep an eye on the stallions that she serves.

Applejack may not flaunt her looks like Rarity does, but she is (in Granny's words) a "natural beauty". As her brother, I can't really give an accurate judgement, but I guess she's pretty enough. The local boys certainly think so, I've seen them, pretending to be sweet when they tell their parents that they'll by the apples today, when really they just want a few minutes where they can hit on AJ. I'm not entirely sure if she's aware of it, because she's a smart mare, but she never gets cross when they flirt. Then again, they do offer to pay more, so I expect she does know, she's just using it to her advantage. Never to extreme extents, though, sometimes she gets a couple extra bits by fluttering her eyelashes, but she never does anything more than that.

Some part of me knows I'm being over protective. More than once Granny's said that the Ponyville branch of the Apple Family Tree is gonna end with the three of us, because I'm too shy to talk to any mare that I'm not related to, and according to AJ, I scare off every potential coltfriend within a three-mile-radius. I can't say I'm not glad that that's the case, because you have to keep an eye out for the bad apples in the bunch. One time, last February, I was out putting the final touches on the roof for the spring showers, so Applejack was running the town-cart on her own. Some stallion, and she refused to tell me in case I kill him, had absolutely no concept of personal space or boundries. Even after Applejack told him to knock it off twice, he carried on doing...whatever, she never specified, but she assured me it was nothing major. Anyway, bottom line: he had two hoofprints in his torso where AJ had bucked him so hard he crashed into the fountain wall and fell in.

The Afternoon

On this particular day, the (as I call them) Flying Flirts were crowded round the cart. It's a group of about five Pegasus colts who seem infatuated with Applejack. Among them are Thunderlane, Star Hunter and Storm Breaker; all of which are well known players, to say the least. But despite their reputation for being players, they've been hung up on AJ for near three months now. I guess they can only "move on" if they actually get the mare. But judging from AJ's opinion of them, I doubt that will happen any time soon.

She doesn't have anything against Pegasi, I mean, Rainbow Dash and Fluttershy, hello? She doesn't even have anything against Pegasus colts. In fact, she's pretty good friends with Soarin Cloud, the Wonderbolt. She just doesn't like Thunderlane and Co. I can't say I'm disappointed.

The Flying Flirts made themselves relatively scarce once I arrived at the cart. Well, all save for Thunderlane. Of the Flirts, he is the most persistent, but also the most respectable as far as boundaries go. So, as far as the situation was concerned, I'm glad he was the persistent one.

"Hey, Sugarcube." he drawled at AJ feigning her - our - accent. Applejack fixed him with a look that I can only describe as you-talk-a-lot-of-smack-for-somepony-so-little.

...I watch a lot of movies.

Anyway, AJ fixed him with the look, before replying, "Hey, yourself, Sugarcube," and though I know I am her brother and I most certainly am not that kind of farmer, the only way to accurately portray her voice was with the word 'honey'. I came this close to serving Thunderlane a hoof-sandwich, because his wings, at the sound of her voice, decided to spring up like boards. He tried to fold them, but found that it was beyond his power, so instead he smiled, and asked,

"What time does your shift finish?" and all the credit in the word goes to my little sis, when she replied, still in that 'honey' voice...

"Don't matter to you. S'not like y'all're gonna join me." and I grinned inwardly. Outwardly, I fixed Thunderlane with my best I-could-kick-your-flank-with-three-hooves-behind-my-back look and he scurried off with the rest of the Flirts. That was all I would see of them for the rest of the day.

After about a four hours helping with the cart (we quit after lunch, since nopony buys apples just after eating) it was one 'o'clock, so me and Applejack headed back to the farm to do our chores. That can mean help make cider, applebuck, plough the fields, or, in today's case, fix what needs fixing; it really depends on the time of year. Me and AJ were finally getting round to tackling a stubborn gutter pipe, which, in it's current state, would cause a large puddle across the front porch, and, in winter, a miniature ice rink. At the thought of crazily skating and stumbling across the porch, memories of my puberty sprung to mind. Within ten months I near tripled in size, near enough, and it was a full eight months before I got the hang of my new size. I had the broken bones and windows to prove it.

So we got to work fairly quickly, slowly pushing the metal back in place, and then bolting it down.

"Ah think it's gonna need better bolts than these." Applejack remarked with a little difficulty. She was talking around the wrench in her mouth, and was examining the bolts as she twisted them into place. I, myself was holding the ladder in place with my forehooves, and had come to similar conclusions, so merely replied,

"Eeyup."

"Ah'll pick up some better ones tomorrow." she decided, "We got more work to do for now."

"Eeyup." I rarely needed to speak around Applejack. She understood me better than I understood myself, sometimes, being able to tell a whole situation simply from my body language and the look in my eyes. I liked this, because I didn't like talking on, and on, and on incessantly. I'm a firm believer that if you don't have anything of use to say, don't say anything at all. Internally, I was thinking Ah hope there ain't a storm tonight that blows it out of place again. But it didn't need to be said, so I didn't say it. I only said 'eeyup' and 'nnope' so she would know that I was actually listening to her, and hadn't just zoned out.

This habit came about when we were eight and eleven respectively. I was listening to her describe a...you know, I don't remember. I don't remember what she was describing, but I remember that she was enamoured by it, obsessed by it, and her eyes lit up in a way that I hadn't seen since before Ma and Pa died in that train crash. I, being a faithful older brother (I'd never really been the type for teasing, at least, not after Ma and Pa died), was listening intently, very intrigued myself, but because I failed to acknowledge it verbally, she got rather upset.

According to family members, in my pre-adolescent years I was a scrawny young colt whose mouth was always open, lest I have a fritter in it. I must admit that that was true. I would gibber on and on to AJ, Granny, Ma, Pa and anypony else who would listen for hours. I would talk about the farm, about my friends, about the strange dark shape on the ceiling of my room (I promise you, it looks like a pair of horseshoes, and I swear vampire ponies exist. Fluttershy was sort-of-turned-into-one last applebuck season. Once Apple Bloom came along I would gibber to her too, though I doubt she ever understood any of it. Once I had to become the stallion of the family, I had to grow out of that stuff pretty quick, but not as quick as AJ, so all things considered I'm not really in a position to complain. Either way, I don't talk much nowadays, but I still sleep with my mouth open. The snoring I can't help, but at least I don't drool any more, though. I have learnt not to dream about apples or apple-related products.

Then we set to work on fixing the barn's roof. This past year had been pretty kind, so there weren't nearly as many holes as there usually were. After an hour or so working on the roof, we needed to let the structure dry for a night before we could continue. So we headed over to the North acre.

The North acre is the, well, Northern-most acre on the farm. It doesn't hold apple trees, but normal trees, like the type you might find in Ponyville Park. We use them for firewood, chopping off the largest branches (that's Applejack's job - she's better with a lasso and she's lighter, so she can get higher up) before carrying them to the barn (my job, I'm stronger and better at loading wagons) and chopping them into decent sized pieces of firewood (we split that work). It may only be mid-June, but this is the only time of the year when we have the time to do this. Besides, the warm weather, fixing the leaking barn and the lack of rain in general means that the wood has plenty of time to dry out in the barn. Can't make a fire with damp wood.

Anyway, me and AJ headed up to the North acre, and quick as a flash she was up in a tree, lassoing one of the large, high branches and pulling it to the ground with a creeee-CRACK! and I hefted it on to the barrow I was gonna fasten to my yoke, and pull to the barn for chopping. It was a good three hours before we finally decided to quit for the day, and we had a large pile of firewood to show for it.

By the time all that was finished, it was coming on to six 'o'clock, and the sun was just beginning to dip below the horizon; Celestia and Luna had cast their magic over the celestial bodies, and they were slowly making their respective descents and ascents to and from the sky. This is usually the point where AJ makes herself scarce for a few hours with her friends. Often it's Rarity or Rainbow Dash, because she's known the two of them the longest. They're both nice mares, but Rainbow Dash comes across as somepony who acts too much, caring too much about other ponies' opinions; and Rarity is a bit bright and loud for me. But I'm always polite when I see one of AJ's friends, giving them a "howdy" when they pass and say, "Hey, Big Mac!" or, in Rarity's case "Good Morning/Afternoon/Evening/Day, Big MacIntosh." she's the only pony who's never, ever, ever called me Big Mac.

This is also the time of day where Apple Bloom troupes in, after a hard (and often messy) day's crusading. On this particular day she was covered in tree sap.

"Hey, Big Mac." she smiled stickily. She seemed in high spirits despite the gunk covering her from head-to-hoof, and had made the wise decision to not actually enter the house, but stand on the front porch.

"Again?" Was all I replied, "Ah thought you an' your friends didn't get cutie marks for syrup-making."

"We didn't, this time it was amber-crystals." she explained. Amber was a crystal formed from solidified sap.

"Well let's get ya cleaned up before you turn into an Amber-Bloom." I said, giving her the hose and turning on the tap. She held it in her front hooves, directing it at her face, and squealed when a jet of cold water hit her squarely in the muzzle. She wriggled it comically and began trying to rinse herself down.

"Shout for me when you're done." I said, "You are not traipsing sap all over the house, y'hear?"

"Yes." she replied, with a hint of teenage-sass. She picked up a nearby sponge, and the Equestrian magic that allows ponies to pick up and manipulate things with their hooves was not needed, for it stuck fast to her yellow coat with all the orange sap on her body.

It would be a long and tricky job getting the sap out of her mane later, but for now, I could relax. My relaxation time is usually spent by myself. I'm plenty sociable, but with a family that has both Apple Bloom and AJ, a little quiet time means a lot.

There are two levels to our barn. There's the bottom one, filled with farming tools, cleaners for said tools and more hay than we'll ever really need, and there's also a second layer that forms a sort of living room. There's a few beanbags and small chairs and a sofa. In a cupboard at the back there's books, lots of books, sealed away from varmints that occasionally poke around and see if the barn can be lived in - it can't, not while I'm around - and a few barrels of Apple Family Cider underneath a small sink. Only, it's the alcoholic kind, that fizzes and puts a fire in your belly. We don't sell it to the public for safety reasons. Above the sink is another cupboard filled with cider mugs and washing stuff for cleaning them.

I poured myself a mug of the cider, picked up a Daring Doo book, began to read, and began to relax.

My relaxation was short lived.

I had only read eight chapters when I heard Applejack's voice hollering from the bottom of the barn. It seemed that she had returned - early today, I wonder why. However, it had been a full hour and a half. I'm not a particularly fast reader, and Daring Doo books are long.

AJ was polite enough never to come up without warning, as I liked my privacy, and more than once she had caught me in a...shall we say a compromising situation - make of that what you will. Nonetheless, I heaved myself from the beanbag, laid the book and half-empty cider-mug on one of the numerous small, low tables, and climbed down the ladder.

"AJ?" I asked, by way of both greeting and inquiry.

"Apple Bloom's back." she said, "Ah'm gonna go run a bath, but Ah need you to pick her up." it's not that Applejack couldn't pick up Apple Bloom, we both could. Easily. It was that it was harder for Apple Bloom to squirm when I picked her up, and there was no danger of her mane or tail touching the carpet and getting stuck to it.

It may seem strange that she was still sap-covered even though she had rinsed, but a hose only does so much.

She was standing, dripping wet and slightly-less-sap-covered than before, but still pretty covered. I picked her up by the tail and carried her upstairs. We had carpets upstairs, and there was no way in Equestria to get sap out of carpet. I dropped her in the bath and took out her hair bow. It's plenty easy to take out the bow, just pull of one of the ends and it comes free. It was beyond saving, so I just dumped it into the bin. As for her mane...well, a comb might not cut it. Last time we had to actually cut her mane.

But this time, the sap seemed a little less viscous, and went down the drain now that it was combined with shampoo and hot water, rather than just cold water. Also, the use of a brush rather than a sponge probably helped. Nonetheless, it took both me and Applejack scrubbing for a good half hour before she was finally clean. The bath itself was another matter entirely.

Oh yay. I thought grudgingly, Ah'm gonna be cleaning out the drain tomorrow.

The Evening

After Apple Bloom looked more like a filly than a half-dried piece of filly-shaped caramel, we let her out of the bath to go play with the potions in the guest room. That was rarely a messy endeavor, with the exception of the explosion.

That reminds me, I need to get some flower seeds...

Evenings are almost never eventful in this house. It's usually just a wind down from the day's work. If Apple Bloom has homework, me and Applejack help her with it. Applejack's great at English and Spelling, I'm better at Maths and Science. But today she had no homework, and soon the sounds of gentle bubbling was throughout the farmhouse. So whilst Apple Bloom was doing that, I returned to the barn for another hour's reading and cider, by which point it was about nine, time for dinner.

As a general rule, I make breakfast, we sort our own lunches (only AJ makes Apple Bloom's in the morning) and Granny makes dinner. Tonight it was hayloaf and salad. Not overly exciting, but tasty.

We have a few rules at the table: no talking until dessert, no arguments and no toys/books/magazines/you-get-the-picture. We rarely have guests at our dinner table, unless a family reunion is on, which at this point in time there was not. As a result, dinner was normal, and quiet until dessert - which on this particular day was apple pie with vanilla ice-cream. Can't complain, I love ice cream.

There was not conversation of any particular importance today, just remark on the weather, and how me and AJ are making good progress on the work that needs done - once again the screw issue was brought up, and Applejack said that she'd pick up some more first thing tomorrow.

Granny was trying to prompt me to talk. She's sweet, and I love listening to her stories of growing up in Ponyville when it was new, but I don't like actual conversations. They almost always end up with Granny questioning my lack of a marefriend, and since she's so hard of hearing you have to really yell to get yourself heard. I think she feels a little guilty that me and AJ had to grow up so fast, because she wasn't able to do much, but she really shouldn't. Sure, it wasn't ideal, but she managed to keep the farm going long enough for us to finish our education, even though we suddenly had so many extra chores to do. If it weren't for her, Sweet Apple Acres could have very possibly gone to ruin.

So I eat my pie, listen politely, but when she turns for me to talk I say, "That was a lovely story Granny, and a lovely dinner. Ah'm gonna go read in the barn for a while. G'night, Apple Bloom." I added, because her bed time comes straight after dinner. Applejack and me don't really have bedtimes, as we're old and sensible enough to go to bed when we need to.

Apple Bloom brushed her teeth and before long was alseep, I was in the barn across the way until ten, when it started to get a little cool. And so I returned to the farmhouse and made polite conversation with AJ as Granny dozed in her chair. Nopony ever moves her from her chair, yet she never sleeps there the whole night. I suppose it's one of those mysteries. Like "is there life after death" or "how does AJ always catch and swallow the apple in one go".

Sometimes, usually in applebuck season, me and AJ work after dinner too, well into the night. The standard is ten hours a day - seven until twelve, an hour for lunch, then one until six. When the harvest is particularly good, we squeeze in an extra two after dinner, because dinner is at eight rather than nine.

It was coming up for eleven when I decided to turn in. It might not sound overly late, but I like at least seven hours' sleep a night. As far as getting ready for bed goes, I sneak into Apple Bloom's room and kiss her mane goodnight, even though she's always sleeping, but she smiles. AJ is usually reading, but sometimes she's asleep too. Either way, I kiss her mane as well, and if she's awake, she does the same to me. Then I go into my room, pull off my yoke, snuggle up to Sma-

...to my, er, pillow, and wait for sleep

Just before falling asleep, I often think of another Equestria. A one where Ma and Pa are still alive. Applejack is much more carefree, and so am I. We have far fewer chores and spend more time with our friends, but it's mostly the same, only Pa takes the role of scaring off the Flying Flirts.

Because I don't have to be the stallion of the family in this world, my mind is able to wander. I think that, yeah, Cheerilee is very pretty. I flirt back at mares, instead of politely and tactfully ignoring or playing ignorant to their advances. Apple Bloom has a real mother and father, instead of an older sister and an older brother who play at it. Granny has somepony more competent taking care of the farm. It's a happy Equestria, but so is this one. Apple Bloom's turning out pretty darn good, the farm is thriving, and most of those mares didn't seem that nice anyway.

Life is tough. Life is hard. Life will sometimes knock you down for the sake of it. But with my sisters, my granny, my cousins and aunt and uncles...

...life is good.