it was a few moments before Hazel returned with some half-assed sketties— cooked pasta and ketchup. She wasn’t about to waste the good stuff on the likes of Petunia.
The fluffy didn’t seem to notice the difference, happily— and messily— scarfing down every last bit. With a sigh of contentment, the purple mare plopped down on her ass.
“Thank you mummah!! Dat was bestest nummies eva!!” she squealed, beginning to hum an out of tune song to herself.
“I’m glad you liked it, Petunia. Now, I just have a question for you— did your old daddy teach you about good poopies, bad poopies and the litterbox?” She asked, immediately receiving an eager nod.
“Mhm!! Owd daddeh said good poopies go in the widdabox and bad poopies ams poopies anywhere else!! And onwy bad fwuffies make bad poopies!!!”
“Very good. Now, you know your foals are too small to find the litterbox, right? At least not until they open their seey places, right? So that means that you have to make sure they get luckie cleanies on their poopie places AND on the floor where they made a mess. That’s what good mummahs do.”
Petunia’s nose scrunches up at the thought of numming poopies, but understood that bestest mummahs had to make sure their babbehs are cleansies!
“Petwunia undastand!! Petwunia be bestest mummah and give babbehs lickie cweansies!!!”
“Good fluffy. I’m glad you agree.”
With a happy snort, the mare looked down to her foals, relaxing and cooing for her bestest babbeh to nurse. “Mummah had bestest skettie nummies, make bestest miwkies for bestest babbeh,” she spoke in a sing song tone, the little foal greedily latching on to a teat.
Hazel crossed her arms, glaring down at the fluffy who not only fed her favorite baby first but also seemed to shoo away any of the other siblings from feeding until the bestest babbeh was done.
“You know you have TWO milkie places, right, Petunia? There’s room for another to eat, too.”
“Siwwy mummah!! Bestest babbeh needs aww da woom! Dun wan oda babbehs to boder her!!”
And, with that proud statement of favoritism, Hazel bent down and snatched the foal from its feeding. the foal now deprived of her meal, her chirping revved up and caused all her siblings to join in.
“Mummah!!! Nu!!! Bad upsies awe bad for babbeh!! Babebbeh nu habe enuff miwkies!!” Petunia whined, stubby front legs reach out desperately for her foal.
“This little piggy can finish when ALL your other babies have eaten. You are not going to treat them any differently than her. There are NO bestest babbehs in this house.”
“Huu-huu no am piggie!! Am onwy widdle babbeh!! Gib backsies!!!” she sobbed in reply, hiding her face with her hooves. When it was apparently she wouldn’t be receiving her foal back, Petunia finally relented and brought to of her sons up to nurse. Once their bellies were full, the third colt was brought forward and fed as well. Hazel made a note that the brown foal was once again left out, but decided not to say anything until Petunia stated that she was done feeding her “other babies”.
That moment came along pretty quick, the third babbeh unlatching and giving a small burp before joining his brothers in a small fluffy pile. Petunia glanced up proudly, legs once again outstretched towards her little foal.
“Dere!! Oddah babbehs hab happie tummies!! Gib bestest babbeh back pwease??”
In reply, hazel shook her head and held the foal even further away and earning a confused expression and soft whine.
“I said ALL your babies, Petunia!” She stated, pointing at the brown foal as if punctuating her sentence. The fluffy’s go wide as she follows the digit, breaking into a stuttering fit.
“Bu —- bu dat am poopie babbeh!!! Dun desewve miwkies!! Onwy for num poopi—“ she’s cut off with a sharp slap across the face, previous sentence morphing into a ‘why huwt fwuffy?? Am good fwuffy!’ followed by more sobs.
“Shut up! I said there were no poopie babbehs here!! Now you feed your child or this foal will starve!! She is not allowed to eat until all your other babies are fed!!” Hazel snapped, glaring down at the waste of fur in front of her.
There’s a few more sobs and huus before she once again relents and tugs the brown foal towards her by the tail. There’s a string of confused and scared cheeps, but they’re eventually silenced when presented with the source of food. She latches on eagerly, getting her fill before finally being gently pushed away and towards her brothers by Petunia’s back hoof. Her eye glance up towards hazel pleadingly, and she’s rewarded with her bestest babbeh once more.
“Good. There’s a new rule, Petunia. She doesn’t eat until all your other foals eat. I’m going to watch every feeding time to make sure you listen.” there’s a small glance of defiance from the fluffy, though it quickly deflated when met with Hazel’s own glare. Finally, she nods then gives her full attention to her foal, singing a soft mummah song which none of the others received.
“Now that we have that settled, it’s time to sleep. When I come down in the morning there better not be any bad poopies or peepees, or you’re getting the sorry stick!! And If anything happens to your foals overnight— especially the brown one— you’re going to lose your leggies, and I’m giving your bestest babbeh forever sleepies, got it?”
She receives a simple overly exaggerated nod in response, before Hazel approaches the door of the safe room. She reaches out the flick on the baby monitor she has set up, wanting to be able to hear everything that goes on in case something happens. Finally, she flicks the light off in the room, the night lights throughout glowing to life.
“Goodnight,” she chimes, and with that the door is closed and she heads up to bed.
