Not a human-in-Equestria story.
Nope. Enope. Nope nope nope.
I write this because I think I’m going… well, not crazy, but… I’m not sure how much longer I can take this. And yet, I have no idea how to begin. Heh, the thing I thought was the beginning is now the end of the story.
I want to make this story interesting. Why? You will understand.
~~I awoke…~~ No.
~~The thing is that I’m a…~~No…
Oh, I give up. Screw beginnings. My name is Benjamin. Benji for my friends. I live in Europe, a rather small country in a town of 50,000 people. No, that sounds boring. It's true, but it's boring. Oh, whatever. Let me just describe my morning.
I woke up in a very warm bed, much warmer than I really enjoyed. I also had my mouth full of mane. The mane was pink with a blond streak. I remember that I fell asleep next to a short brown mane, also with a blond streak, which means my little colt walked over to Mommy’s bed during the night. Furthermore it means that my oldest filly, Rose Petal, probably after a nasty dream, came over to my bed. She is a sweet little filly, ten years this September. But she also almost pushed me out of bed. She’s getting a bit too big for her baby brothers bed, you see.
Yep, that was were I was sleeping. My bed had been filled with my wife and our other foals during the night. Well, my back was hurting, so despite the warmth of the bed, I stumbled out of bed and walked to the kitchen. I glanced at the master bedroom, where a short brown mane was the only thing showing that my oldest colt was still sleeping there. As I turned around, I felt something flewing by my ears. I made a quick grab, found my grip around a tail. There was a slight *fomp* sound of landing, immediately followed by a neighing.
“Daaaddy…”
“Hurricane… No flying inside, you know the rules. And no flying at all before breakfast.”
“But, Daddy! Flying is fun!”
Can’t argue with that, can I? My wife and foals are all earth ponies, except for Hurricane. She has white fur, a red mane, and she is, as you probably guessed, a Pegasus. Why? Don’t know…
“I know, Hurry, I know. I don’t want you to get hurt flying into a wall, and furthermore, I don’t want you to wake your brother. You need to keep it down, okay?”
“Okay…”
She went to her room, probably to play with her Lego. She used her hooves, I checked. I walked on to the kitchen. I needed coffee. I always need coffee before breakfast, and I was really thankful Hurricane didn’t make any fuzz. I can’t take too much drama before breakfast and with this family, it’s pretty much everyday.
Well, any hopes of preparing my coffee without any disturbing stuff was DOA. My a-little-bit-too-cheerful-wife-for-Pete’s sake-it’s-only-6:30 was bouncing around the kitchen, preparing the breakfast table, singing, humming and smiling and giggling. At this time, I didn’t care how cute she was. I glanced at the table, over three quarters of it was filled with cakes, muffins, candy, chocolate… My stomach was hurting just at the sight of it. I walked over to the coffee machine, prepared to make this morning’s very first latte. Instead I got a hug. It felt like being hugged very hard by a marshmallow.
“Good morning, Big Mr. Grumpy Pants! Slept well?”
I mumbled something. The hug made me happy and annoyed at the same time.
“I can’t hear you when you mumble, silly! Speak up!”
“Mmrrbfff…Pinkie… I need my coffee. Please just… let go and let me fix it.”
She hugged me even tighter. “Aaaah…. but you’re so cute when your annoyed. Come on Benji, have a cupcake! Or a fritter! Or a pastry! Or a waffle! Or a…”
“Pinkie… I can’t eat that, I’m trying to keep an eye on my weight.”
“Well, that easy! Your big belly is under your eyes all the time! So I say you have an easy job! Now, have a cupcake!”
Without letting go of me, she grabbed something from the table and almost pushed it into my face. I pushed her hand away, holding the probably delicious treat. “For pete’s sake, Pinkie! I DON’T WANT the damn thing!” Just...just let me have my coffee. Please…”
For a moment, she looked at me with an almost total blank face. I began to fear she was going to start crying, but instead, she gave me a suspicious look, and examined my nostrils for some reason. "Hmm... Someone is REALLY grumpy today. Oh I know! You have been sleeping on Summer's Fillysecond action figure again!"
"No...Rose Petal walked over to my bed sometime tonight… she almost pushed me off...”
Pinkie tilted her head and smiled at me. “Oh, so that’s where she was! I was a little sad when I woke up with only three of my babies beside me this morning!”
I frowned. “Dearest, we have ONE baby. Toffee is a baby. With Rose being ten and Summer being six, I don’t think you should call them ‘babies’, and…”
Another hug interrupted me, and this time it came with a kiss. And then she looked at me with that look of ‘Man,-my-husband-is-so-stupid-it’s-cute. “Silly, my babies will ALWAYS be Mommy’s babies!”
“Let’s just hope they won’t be needing you changing their diapers when they’re thirty-five.” I muttered.
Pinkie looked at me, genuinely confused. “Why would they do that? When they’re thirty-five they’ll be big enough to change it themselves.”
I had no idea what to reply to that, so I walked back to the coffee machine. I made myself the strongest latte you could get. Behind me, I heard Pinkie bouncing around, singing to herself and making breakfast. In the name of equality, I should mention that we usually split 50/50, but with Pinkie on maternity leave… well, let me just say that it’s never good to leave her without things to do.
As the coffee ran down my throat, I felt life returning to me. I also felt someone hugging my leg. I looked down, to see Rose, fully dressed, mane combed and glasses on. “Good morning, Daddy.”
I returned the hug, and played a bit with her mane. She hated that, but I just couldn’t help doing it. Being a dad, it’s your job to embarrass your kids. Or foals, in this case. “Good morning, Rosie. Slept well?”
“Hey! You haven’t asked ME how I slept yet, mister!” Pinkie’s voice was irritated and high-pitched. I turned around to find her giving me the evil eye. She never stops surprising me, she actually WAS angry about that. “As a husband, it is your damn duty to care about your wife first, second and fifth!”
Pre-coffee, my reply would have been, “What about third and fourth?” But now, since I had my coffee, and my mental capacities were restored, instead I put down my cup, went over to her, gave her a hug (Really, it IS like hugging a marshmallow), kissed her softly and said “Sorry, Liebchen. Let me do it again.” With that I let her go, walked out of the kitchen, just to run in again, and with the loudest voice I could manage without waking Summer I said “GOOD MOrnING, honey bunny! Did my lovey-dovey darling sleep well tonight?”
She immediately smiled a big smile, gave me another hug (this time with more passion) and said, “I had a wonderful night! Toffee was only awake a bit around one! And I was warm and cosy and happy and everything was just great!”
Pinkie doesn’t understand sarcasm. I sometimes feel bad about this, but what the hay, she is happy. What’s wrong with that?
I heard the sound of wings, and two seconds later, Hurricane was very much walking into the kitchen. I was thinking of scolding her, but I decided to let it be. A pegasus needs to fly, after all.
“Now, Mommy’s little sugar melons, sit down and have your breakfast.” The girls cheered and went all in on the breakfast table. Then, I heard the light sounds of small hooves on the floor. I turned around, to find my oldest colt walking in with a frown, and half-lidded eyes. He’s just like me, NOT a morning pony. He walked to Pinkie, giving her an owning hug.
“Hey!” Pinkie shouts. “My big grumpy pants AND my small grumpy pants are here! Now let’s eat!” The girls were quick to follow, and Summer –that’s my colt’s name- joined in as soon as he let go of Pinkie’s leg.. A bit slower at first, but he sped up soon enough. Everybody was happy and eating sugary things but me. I had my coffee and a bowl of cereal.
Everything was chaotic and just wonderful. For a while.
Hurricane swallowed the last of her cupcake and looked at me. Oh no. Oh no. I knew what was going to come, and it would not be pleasant.
“Daddy? Can we go to Aqualand today? Please?”
I tried to find my best strict-daddy face. “Now, Hurry, sweetie, we were at Aqualand two weeks ago. And you have school today.”
“But, Daddy, pleeease? Can’t we go there after school? Pleeease?”
“I don’t think that is a good idea, realll…”
“PLEEEEASE?”
Oh no. Now there were two of them. Rose joined her sister. Two fillies with big puppy eyes. It’s hard, but I can manage.
“No, that will not…”
“PLEEEEAAAASE?”
Now it was three voices, and six eyes. Summer joined in. Tough, but I could handle it. I needed to stay strong. I’m a responsible parent.
“No. No. No…”
“PLEEEASEEEE, PRETTY, PRETTY, PLEASE, BEST DADDY IN THE WORLD, PLEASE?”
Four voices, eight huge puppy eyes. And a bit of pouting. And I was screwed. I can take the kids, but when Pinkie, the biggest kid in the world, joins them, it’s too much for one man. Actually, I think it would be too much for twenty men even.
“Hey! It’s cheating when you involve Mom in this!”
“PLEAAAASEEEE?”
Resistance was futile…
“Oh, damn… Okay, okay, we can go to Aqua land. I can probably get off work a bit earlier.”
“HOORAY!”
“You’re the best, dad!”
“Wheeee!”
“BUT!” I at least needed to go down with a bit of my dignity intact. “I want you to be good little foals and finish your breakfast, get dressed and ready for school without any protests or we won’t go!”
“Okay!”
“Okay!”
“Oki doki loki!”
As the kids ran away, I glared at Pinkie.
“Why do you always have to take the foals’ side in these things?”
“Because, Big Mr. Grumpy Pants,” she said, moving closer for a hug and a pat on my stomach, “It’s fun at Aqualand, and it’s fun to watch you suffer. Win-win for me!”
I rolled my eyes. “Pinkie, I don’t think…”
She kissed me. She tasted like cupcakes, cherries and cinnamon. “Don’t think so much, silly. Eat your boring cereal now, so you can take the kids to school!”
My cereal always tastes like cardboard, and this morning was not an exception. I kept my eyes on Pinkie as she bounced around the kitchen. Since she went home for maternity leave, she’s been wearing ankle pants almost every day. Pretty tight ones as well. Pinkie is chubby. Not obese or fat. Just chubby. The irony of all this? SHE eats sweets every bloody meal. The kids too. They are healthy, agile and energetic. Now, I eat healthy, I only eats sweets on Saturday, and I’M the fat one. I’m not lying, I weigh 132 kg. Pinkie weighs 98 kg. So while they have cake, I eat salad. It’s pretty frustrating. One week, I gave up, and ate what they ate. Went up to 140 in two days… So, I stick with my cardboard cereal.
I kept looking at Pinkie. Ok, mostly at her butt, and her tail. Ok, I was staring.
I will be honest here, I know this is a very CIS-male point of wives, but... But get this: Wide hips, round butt, a soft but not big stomach, bouncy and pretty big boobs, always smiling, and wiggling her tail at me almost all of the time. And bouncing, so that everything is constantly…moving. I can’t do anything but LOVE that pony. I can’t help it.
Toffee had just woken up, and he came crawling into the kitchen. Since Pinkie needed to go to the loo, I had to take care of everything. But it wasn’t any trouble, I can handle getting the big kids dressed and ready for school while holding a four-month-old colt.
That’s a thing about ponies contra humans, by the way. Toffee was not more than four hours old when he started to crawl. He can’t walk, and he doesn’t have the best eyesight, but he can crawl. So… when he’s awake, he needs to be held constantly.
When Pinkie was done, she needed to hug every one of them three times. And then two more. Then I left my youngest foal with his mother, went out to the car and drove the kids to school. And here I am now, writing this.
I wonder if this is a nightmare.
But, you might ask, why? Life sounds pretty good, aren’t you just being the grumpy pants Pinkie says you are?
Yeah, well…There is just one problem.
Six months ago they were all human.
Six months ago, my wife had short brown hair, glasses, and blue eyes. My girls were blonde, even my son was blonde. Six months ago, I remembered their names…
As time passes, I remember less and less. The first few days, I had very clear memories of them all, when our daughter was born, the day my wife got her degree, the first day of school for my girls, just to mention some things I think I remember.
After one week, my memory was of Pinkie with a filly at her chest when I tried to remember the hospital. After one month, I clearly remembered how we had to adjust Rose Petal’s glasses so her mane wouldn’t knock them off. And now…it’s like they always been there. And I so want to love them and hug them and just… be there.
And I just can’t. Not totally, not with all my heart. I need to keep distance.
Why? Why don’t I just live the dream, happy with my family, not caring at all that my best friend Kristen is married to Thunderlane, that I pass Quills and Sofas on my way to work, that the Prime Minister is named Celestia, the Queen and Prince Regent are named Cadence and Shining Armour, and that my boss is a Griffon since three days back? And that my bookwormish and awkward friend Mary, who went to West Aros to study, came back last week as TWILIGHT SPARKLE?
I’m scared.
I’m scared because deep down… I don’t think this is real. I don’t know what this is. If I forget, what will happen if I one day wake up to see this was all a dream? I don’t even know what my son’s name is supposed to be! If one day I wake up to find a five-year-old, am I just going to stare at him and call him “the baby”? If I wake up surrounded by five people whom I have NO IDEA WHO THEY ARE? I did that once… six months ago. I don’t want to do that again. But I don’t think I can avoid it. But I try. Oh Celestia, I TRY! Did I write Celestia? Oh god…
I never relax, I won’t let myself relax. The memories are fading. For every minute, a pony replaces a human being in my memories. I can’t trust my mind. I thought photographs, physical things would stay the same. Yeah right… The moment I touched them, the people in the picture turned into ponies. At least… the ones that are ponies. Almost everything is lost, and perhaps I am as well, soon.
This is too good. It’s too much fun being married to Pinkie. It’s too cute to have two fillies and two colts. This must be just my mind screwing with me, this CAN’T be real.
And there is one thing left, one thing that connects me to the real world. The one thing that keeps me from dropping everything and just go crazy in this world.
I found it yesterday, in our storage room. A picture on the wall. It was from our wedding. The least picture of me and my human wife. We dropped it on the floor a while back, and the frame is broken, but we haven’t been able to fix it, so it hangs there. It’s like my own little altar now. I don’t dare to touch it, afraid for it to change. I don’t want to, because there she is. My wife for ten years. She is beautiful in her wedding dress. I look okay. But that’s not the point. I’ve been going out there a bit almost every hour. I just stand there, for five or ten minutes, looking at that picture, and whispering to myself: “Anna… Your name was Anna. You were 33, from a small town on the east coast, and you were the best thing that happened to me.”
I need to remember this...I write this because there is this one question I fear the answer to.
If that is the reality, then what the hay is this?
