Time for a House Raising

Rainbow Dash landed on the Apple porch, and let herself in. Taking a seat in the vestibule, she began to peel off her flight suit; taking time to relax and savor the sounds of dinner being prepared.

“Oh, Hey Dash. How was work?” Applejack asked.

“It was fine. Is Mac in yet?” Dash rose to her hooves, and hung the uniform on its peg.

Applejack nodded. “He’s in the kitchen.”

Following Applejack through the living room and into the kitchen, she found Mac in the middle of cooking for the family. Turning away from the stove, Big Mac smiled at her; a wooden spoon still in his teeth.

“I’m pregnant.”

Mac fainted.

Applejack hit the floor second, only because her sides cramped from laughing. Clutching her ribs, she grimaced in pain, but her laughter only came harder.

Between the thud and the bellowing laughter, it was no surprise that she didn’t hear Applebloom and Granny Smith come down the stairs; only becoming aware of them when Granny patted her on the withers as she walked by.

Pulling the spoon from her limp grandson’s grasp, she stirred whatever was on the stove, giving it a critical eye. “Guess we’ll have a house raisin’ in the spring,” she mused to nopony in particular.

“I’m going to be an aunt!?” Applebloom cheered.

Dash sighed and ran a hoof through Applebloom’s mane. “Looks like it.”

Applejack’s cackles faded to snickers as she pulled herself up off the floor. Limping from the cramp, she wandered into the living room.

The hard rap of spoon against the pan brought Dash’s attention back Granny Smith. Again she tapped the spoon to shake off the cooking barley. This time Granny’s gaze met hers, then drifted to the limp stallion.

Shaking her head, Dash took a glass from the cupboard, and the bottle of applejack from its hiding spot. Splashing some into the glass, she held it over Mac’s muzzle. The thick fumes of the frost-jacked cider jolted Mac awake. Shaking his head and coughing, he found his hooves and slowly sat up. Pouring a bit more applejack into the glass Dash looked longingly into the glass, before setting it on the counter next to Mac.

Taking the glass of golden spirits, Mac moved over to the table and sat down, chuckling as his face twitched.

“Applebloom,” Granny called. “Help me get dinner on the table.”

With dinner on the table, Applejack reemerged with her reading glasses on, and a monstrously thick book on her back. Taking her seat at the table with the rest of the family, she laid the book down next to her plate. It was then Dash recognized it as a Seers&MoreBuck catalog.