Not A Piece of Cake

by Twinkletail

Rating: everyone
Tags: Original Character, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Other, Pinkie Pie, Slice of Life
Length: 3113

Cotton Candy really wants to surprise her mother with a birthday cake. This is difficult when she can't bake at all.

Pinkie Pie's birthday is coming up, and given how far along she is in her pregnancy, she's been put on double-ultra-secret activity probation. This means no baking, which means no birthday cake, and that's just something that her daughter, Cotton Candy, can't allow. It's time to bake her a cake! There's only one issue: she can't bake to save her life. Luckily, Papa Pokey's perfectly willing to help out.

Cotton Candy (and the cover art of her) is a creation of the amazingly talented kilala97, who also did the prereading for this story!

Published 2014-07-18 21:50:04 UTC
Last updated 2014-07-18 21:50:04 UTC

To Bake A Pretty Cake

Nom nom nom.

Nothing about this was right. Nothing about this was going to be right, because everything was too busy being wrong. If it would all just stop being wrong for a bit, maybe it could be right, but it wasn't.

Nom nom nom.

It didn't make sense either. It was wrong and it didn't make sense. Plus, it was annoying. Wrong, nonsensical, and annoying. Such a trifecta of frustration had never been seen before. And of course it was all happening to her, and all happening right now when it really needed to not happen. Granted, there was never a good time for it to happen, but there sure was a bad time, and this was it.

Nom nom nom.

Practice was supposed to make perfect. Mom and dad always said that. Well, not literally always. They said a lot of other things too. But that was definitely among the things they'd both said before, and she knew full well that they didn't like to lie to their (for now) only daughter. So why wasn't her practice making perfect? All her practice had made her was perturbed. It sounded almost like perfect, but not enough to mean perfect. The various baked goods that she'd tossed out in the last week, goods that had no right to be called "goods" at all, were all the evidence she needed towards this conclusion.

Nom nom nom.

At least things weren't messy. Anymore. Mom had the strangest way of organizing her baking supplies. Cotton Candy loved her mom with all of her heart, but she couldn't help but admit that she had the organizational skills of a tornado. She had spent about 20 minutes on the day of her first attempt searching for the flour. If it had been where it belonged, it wouldn't have been an issue at all. She would have even been somewhat okay with the search if it was at least in the kitchen at all. She didn't bother asking Mom why she found it in the bathroom. Besides the fact that doing so would have ruined the surprise, there was usually little to no point in questioning the ways of Pinkie Pie.

It took Candy nearly an hour to organize the kitchen's contents properly. She hoped that Mom would appreciate that as much as the cake she was going to make her. That is, if it would ever come out right. And right now, the chances of that were looking rather bleak.

Nom nom nom.

Why. Was. This. So. Hard?! She was sure she'd followed all the instructions. She'd made sure to read them over and over and over again, and even another over when the previous over was over, because when it came to following directions perfectly, no amount of overs was ever over enough. This applied ten times over when it was for a present for Mom. Mom deserved only the best in normal situations. For a birthday while she was super-pregnant (her own words), even the bestest wasn't bestest enough. Each and every time, she was positive positive positive that she'd done each and every little thing that she was supposed to, but each and every time, the finished product wasn't fit for pony consumption. That was far from bestest. In fact, it nearly strayed into the dreaded "worstest" category, a terrible realm that was usually solely populated by instances of having to entertain strangers or getting separated from her family and lost.

Nom nom nom.

Why didn't she just accept Golden Delicious's help? He was an amazing baker. He was lucky enough to inherit it from his mom. Applejack was right up there with Mom in terms of baking talent. Del was well on his way to matching them. So why...wasn't...she?

Candy stared at the cake batter that had splattered around the kitchen. Perhaps slamming her hoof onto the dish might have been helpful in relieving a bit of stress, but it certainly was not conducive to keeping the kitchen to the level of cleanliness she'd hoped for. She sighed and turned away to begin her cleaning. She was only able to get through about five seconds of worried cleaning before she felt a hoof gently rest itself on her forehead.

"Ahem."

Candy froze in place. She didn't look up at first. Looking up would acknowledge who was there and allow it into her reality, and this was completely unacceptable. If she just kept looking down at the ground and trying to clean, things would be just fine. She attempted to continue on her path through the kitchen, but that darned hoof on her head just kept impeding her progress. If it wouldn't move from her, she decided, then she'd move from it. She took a quick step back, eyes glued to the floor the whole time. Sure enough, the hoof did not follow. Her mental celebration was brief, however, as she felt a little flick of magic raise her chin up.

"Cotton Candy."

Candy took a breath and finally looked up to the pony who had stopped her. As soon as she saw the splatter of cake batter on his face, she couldn't help but giggle.

"I have to deal with facefuls of batter enough with your mom," Pokey said, grinning down to his little lady as his magic gently removed the bit of her mane she'd been chewing on from her mouth. "I thought you were my ally in cleanliness?"

"Ally!" Candy repeated with a smile. "A person who associates or coop-erates with another!"

"Co-operates," Pokey corrected, tousling Candy's mane. "But still excellent!" He levitated a towel over, wiping the offending batter from his face. "Now then, what's going on here, exactly?"

"Ummm...noooothing?" Candy said. She quickly deduced from her father's face that he had seen through her clever ruse.

"Candy..." Pokey chided. "Don't make me use the Touch of Truth."

Candy froze in place. There was no way he would resort to that. He couldn't. The Touch of Truth was unnecessary force, worthy of being banned across the nation. He would never, ever be so cruel as to...

Suddenly, the dreaded realization that he could indeed do that flooded Candy's mind as she felt one of Dad's hooves start furiously tickling her neck. She wished that she could tell her friends of her brave stand against the assault, to inform them that she had withstood the brutal onslaught and walked away with her pride and dignity intact. This, however, was not to be, and she soon found herself on the floor in a powerless laughing fit as Dad's other front hoof joined the first.

"Are you going to tell me now?" Pokey asked the squirming filly.

"Okay, okay!" Candy shouted between giggles. "I'll talk, I'll talk!" She sighed in relief as Dad let up on his assault and offered a hoof to help her up. She chose not to accept the hoof, opting instead to get up on her own. That hoof had just finished attacking her, and it was far too likely that accepting its help would just lead to a redux. It certainly wouldn't be the first time that she'd fallen for it.

"Now we're getting somewhere!" Pokey said with a smile. "So let's hear it."

"Mom's birthday is coming up," Candy said quietly.

"It certainly is," Pokey replied.

"And I wanted to surprise her," Candy continued, nervously kicking a foreleg. "So I decided to make her a cake."

Pokey hummed, assessing the situation. The near-silence was too silent for Candy, and her ears lowered in preparation of whatever was to come.

"Candy," Pokey said, assuming his most authoritative voice. "What do you think your mother would say if she found out you were trying to use the oven all by yourself?"

"Oh, that's easy!" Candy answered, going into her best Pinkie imitation. "Ouh, are you baking? That's my girl! I wanna help, I wanna help!" Pokey couldn't help but smile as he watched his daughter bounce excitedly. If he closed his eyes, he likely wouldn't have been able to tell that it was her talking and not Pinkie.

"Exactly," Pokey said. "And we're supposed to be keeping her in bed."

"Cause she's super-pregnant," Candy finished.

"Mhm," Pokey agreed, patting Candy on the head.

"So does that mean that I'm not allowed to?" Candy asked, drooping. She could practically see her dreams of a perfect gift for Mom popping like balloons on her father's horn.

"Now now, I didn't say that," Pokey told her. "I just mean you need some supervision. And thankfully for my cute little filly, my vision is pretty super."

"That's not what supervision means, Daddy," Candy said with a giggle. Then her demeanor changed, as the reality of the situation dawned on her. "Not like I'm gonna keep trying anyway."

"What? Why not?" Pokey asked, raising a brow. "Didn't you want to surprise Mom?"

"I did!" Candy said, stomping a little hoof on the ground. "But I stink at baking. I'm like the worstest baker ever." She punctuated her exaggeration with a sad sigh.

"Oh come now," Pokey said, patting her on the head. "I'm sure you're not the worstest.

"Oh yeah?" Candy asked indignantly. "Try tasting some of the batter that splashed on the wall! You'll see!"

"You know, I think I will," Pokey said. He lit his horn up and pulled some of the batter off of the wall. Candy winced as the offending batter neared her father's mouth, hoping that tasting it wouldn't end up with him just as bedridden as Mom. Candy was eight years old. She couldn't handle having to take care of two parents with no help.

"Don't!" Candy squeaked out. Unfortunately, her warning came too late. She was powerless to do anything as her father tasted the offensive creation. She watched him smack his tongue against the roof of his mouth, taking in as much of the flavor as he could. It didn't take long before she saw a bit of worry enter his eyes. It faded quickly, but she had already seen it. Her mom had been very thorough in teaching her facial expressions, and she knew quite well how to read them.

"It's...delicious!" Pokey offered through a very forced smile. Candy frowned.

"I think you need a Touch of Truth, Daddy," the little filly said. Pokey let out a little sigh.

"You're right, kiddo," he said, sitting on the floor next to her and scooping her up into a hug. "I shouldn't lie."

"That makes me feel so much better," Candy groaned.

"Now come on, Candy," Pokey said, holding her so she was nose-to-nose with him. "Haven't I always taught you that you should never give up on your tasks or yourself?"

Candy frowned and looked away. Even though her current level of frustration made her unwilling to admit it, Dad was right. He did always teach her that. Well, not always. He taught her other stuff too.

"I guess..." the filly said. "But it's still gonna stink, cause I stink at baking, and that's all there is to it."

"That most certainly is not all there is to it," Pokey replied. Candy felt Pokey sit her down upon his lap, and she already knew what time it was.

"Serious Time?" Candy asked.

"Serious Time," Pokey confirmed. Candy let out a little sigh.

"Fine," Candy said. "But you first."

"I went first last time, if you'll recall," Pokey said. "So I believe that means you're starting us off." Candy frowned. As much as she tried, she could not refute this argument. Their last Serious Time, initiated when she was upset over the news that she wasn't going to be an only child anymore, had indeed seen Dad start it off. Facts really stunk sometimes.

"Alright," Candy said. "All I want to do is make Mom a birthday cake as a surprise cause she's too pregnant and I know she can't get up and make one herself cause she gets really active when baking."

"Right," Pokey said. "Go on."

"And I've been trying for days to make the perfect cake," Candy continued. "But it's been terrible every time, even though I know I'm following the directions."

"Mhm," Pokey said. "And you know Mom will like whatever you make for her, right?"

"I know, I know," Candy told him. "But it still needs to be perfect."

"Why?" Pokey asked.

"Because Mom deserves the best!" Candy said. "And..." She hesitated.

"And?" Pokey asked.

"...And I feel like if the daughter of the bestest baker in Ponyville can't bake a cake right, then I'll disappoint her and you and everypony ever," Candy finished. She felt a little sniffle try to throw her, but she held strong against it. Father and daughter sat silently for a good few seconds, letting the weight of Candy's words settle.

"So it's my turn now, right?" Pokey asked.

"Mhm," Candy said quietly. Pokey nodded and lit his horn up, holding Candy in his magic so his hooves could be free.

"You are our sweet little lady," Pokey said. "Nothing you do or say could ever disappoint us as long as it's done with good intentions. Your mom may be the bestest baker in Ponyville, but that doesn't mean that you have to follow in her hoofsteps, and it doesn't mean that anypony will be disappointed in you if you don't."

Candy couldn't help but smile at her father's words. Somehow, he always knew what to say. At the same time, though, one thing still bothered her.

"So does that mean I shouldn't bake her a cake?" Candy asked.

"Do you still want to bake her a cake?" Pokey asked.

"Yuppers," Candy replied without hesitation.

"Then do it," Pokey said, giving her nose a little boop. "Don't worry about needing it to be the best ever. Make it with your heart, and be proud of it, because Mom will love it simply for the fact that you made it. She'll be ecstatic."

"Ecstatic," Candy repeated with a sniffle and a smile. "Subject to, or in a state of, ecstasy."

"Good girl," Pokey said, giving her a kiss on the forehead before setting her down on the floor. He rose a hoof to his forehead in salute. "A successful Serious Time?"

"Successful, indeed!" Candy replied, mirroring the salute. She hugged her father's foreleg. "I love you, Daddy."

"I love you too, little lady," Pokey responded. "I'll be supervising from the living room. And don't forget to clean the kitchen up when you're done, okay?"

"Um, hello?" Candy replied, grinning. "Who's your ally in cleanliness?"

"Just making sure you're willing to coop-erate," Pokey laughed. He gave his daughter's mane another little tousle before leaving her to her own designs.

Candy took another look at the baking supplies once she was alone. A little sliver of doubt began to sneak into her head again, but she fought it off. She had read plenty of books where the hero who couldn't do something well got a pep talk from somepony close to them and were then suddenly able to succeed. Mom was going to love her cake.

~~~~~~~~~~

"Knock knock!"

Candy didn't even wait for a reply from the other side of the door. It wasn't the first time she'd barged into her parents' room without permission, and she had a feeling it wouldn't be the last.

"Hi sweetheart!" Pinkie called from her bed. She began to try and get up, but Pokey's hoof held her back.

"You don't have to get up, Mom,". Candy said. "I'm coming over there!" She made her way over to the bed, slowly so as not to disturb the covered tray on her back.

"Ouh, what's that?" Pinkie asked, waving for her daughter to come closer.

"Only the bestest birthday present ever for the bestest mom ever!" Candy replied. She carefully placed the tray on the bed, beaming.

"And from the bestest daughter ever!" Pokey added with a grin.

Pinkie squealed with excitement, picking the tray up. Candy watched, rapt with anticipation, as the tray cover was removed, revealing her creation.

"Oh my goodness!" Pinkie bubbled. "How'd you know I wanted birthday cake for my birthday?!"

"Lucky guess!" Candy replied with a giggle.

"With pink frosting and sprinkles!" Pinkie marveled, cutting a piece. "And it's confetti cake! I don't know anywhere that-" Then she paused. "...Candy, did you make this?"

"Yuppers!" Candy said. "All by myself!"

"Ouh, you were baking?" Pinkie squealed. "That's my girl! I wanna help next time, I wanna help!" She began to sit up again, but Pokey calmed her down with some rubs on her big belly. He gave Candy a knowing look as he did so, and she grinned right back at him.

"Okay Mom, you can help next time," Candy said.

"Let's have some now!" Pinkie said excitedly, cutting two more slices and passing them to Pokey and Candy. Candy couldn't help the slight look of trepidation that crossed her face, but she did her best to try and restrain it. After all, she'd had her failures, her moments of doubt, and her pep talk. This had to be the final success.

"Down the hatch!" Pinkie said. All at once, the three family members took a big bite of their cake.

It didn't take long for both Candy and Pokey's faces to contort. This was certainly not the amazing, delicious cake that stories had led her to believe she'd made. She could tell that Dad was doing his best to hide his distaste, but it was still quite evident on his face. She winced and swallowed the bit of disappointment in her mouth, and her ears drooped as she realized that she'd failed.

"This is amazing!" Pinkie squealed. Candy's ears perked back up as she looked at her mother in shock.

"What?" Candy and Pokey asked in unison.

"This is the bestest cake I've ever had!" Pinkie shouted. Candy just stared at her, unbelieving of what she'd just heard.

"But...it tasted awful," Candy said. "So it's a terrible gift..." She knew her mom was silly sometimes, but this really took the...well, the cake.

"It tastes unique!" Pinkie said, holding out a foreleg for Candy to come snuggle up next to her, a request which Candy was more than happy to accept. "And maybe it's not the greatest gift of all, but it sure was made by the greatest gift of all, and that's all that matters."

Candy giggled happily and snuggled close to her mother, nuzzling into her side. Maybe she wasn't the best baker, but as long as the pony getting the gift was happy, she really didn't have much to complain about.