You are Lavender, and you’re a soon-mummah!
You’re a very soon-mummah now.
You’ve reached the point where you can’t even walk anymore.
So, you’ve gone back to being stuck in the saferoom. But this time, it won’t be for long, and you’ve got five other fluffies to keep you company, including your bestest special friend, Oak, who has been by your side the whole time. He’s been dutifully rolling you around the saferoom to get you to where you need to be.
Right now, he’s rolling you to the litterbox, because you need to make good poopies.
“Owwies!”
“Wavendew? Oak nu am pushin tuu hawd, am Oak?”
No, it’s not that. Oak is being very gentle, rolling you slowly and carefully. And that’s the problem, because he hasn’t gotten you to the litterbox yet.
Well, that’s the small problem.
The big problem is that you feel like you really need to make poopies.
In fact…
It feels like…
It feels like you need to make…
“BIGGEST POOPIES!!!”
Your daddeh comes running when he hears you.
Your daddeh and mummah knew this was about to happen, and they already have everything ready.
Your daddeh carefully reaches out and touches you with one not-hoofsie.
“Everyone else, touch my arm.”
The other fluffies do so.
With his other not-hoofsie, he uses his blooper.
blip
blip
Now you’re all downstairs, in the kit-chin. Mummah is making milkies, in case you have more babbehs than you can feed.
Daddeh picks you up, and puts you on the table, which is covered in noos-papers. He puts you on a big pile of old blankies.
Your bestest purple daddeh blankie is in the saferoom, because you know biggest poopies are messy, and you don’t like getting that blankie dirty.
Oak looks up at daddeh.
“Oh, right. The rest of you, stay down there, okay? Give Lav some space.”
Daddeh picks up Oak, and puts him on the table too. He stays close.
Then your daddeh looks at your no-nos.
“First one’s coming out. You remember what we talked about, Lav?”
“Yus, daddeh. Wavendew an Oak wub aww babbehs. Nu bad babbehs.”
He strokes your fluff.
“Good girl.”
Then daddeh gives you a little piece of a brown nummie.
When you num it, it makes the owwies in your no-nos feel less… well, owwie.
“Feeling a bit better, Lav?”
You nod.
“Good. I should thank Cal, that’s a great tip he gave me.”
“Ah, I thought I felt my ears burning.”
Mistah Cal walks in, with your uncle Jim.
“But I can’t really take credit for it, Les. Tommy told me, and Blueberry told him.”
Mistah Cal winks at you.
“I made time for you, Lav! I didn’t wanna miss this!”
“F-fank yu, mistah Ca-- eep.”
You hear chirping and peeping!
It’s your first babbeh!
Oak picks the babbeh up and gives him to you so you can give him licky-cleanies.
He’s so pretty! He’s red, like Oak, and purple, like you. He’s got a little hownie like Oak too.
When he’s clean, you put him on your milkie place, and he starts drinking milkies.
“Mummah wub babbeh.”
Then the second babbeh comes out.
Oak, once again, hands her over to you.
This one looks just like you. Same colors, and wingies.
You remember what daddeh told you. No babbeh is the bestest babbeh, even if a babbeh looks like you. There’s only good babbehs.
You clean the little filly off and place her on your other milkie place.
“Mummah wub dis babbeh tuu.”
Then you realize something.
Mistah Cal sees the look on your face.
“Ah, I don’t need to copy your power to know what you’re thinking, Lav. You’re thinking, uh oh, now I don’t have any milkie places left, and there’s still more babbehs coming, aren’t you?”
“Yus, mistah Caw.”
“Called it. Snowball realized the exact same thing when she gave birth.”
You’ve met Snowball. She’s nice! And pretty! You think all the stallions in the sitty must be jealous of Piccolo. Who is also nice!
Mistah Cal strokes you next.
“Don’t worry, Lav. Helen’s making milk, so none of your foals will go hungry. But it’s important that they all get a turn at the teat, okay? And that you feed them once a day, until they’re big enough.”
Your daddeh nods at mistah Cal.
“Yes, I read Everything You Need To Know About Fluffy Maternity. Des gave me a copy after Lavender got pregnant. I read it cover to cover in one night.”
Mistah Cal smiles.
“Ah, I remember. Pierre gave me a copy during our first fluffy playdate at the park. That was a year ago. When everything was still… um…”
Your daddeh chuckles.
“Normal?”
Then mistah Cal laughs.
“Nah, normal went out for a pack of smokes when these guys first showed up, and normal never came back.”
He gestures to you and your fluffy friends, and you all look at him.
What’s that supposed to me–
“Eep!”
Then the third babbeh comes out.
As Oak passes him on to you, you remove the first babbeh from your milkie place, and he starts chirping in distress as you place the third babbeh onto the milkie place.
“Mummah awso wub dis babbeh.”
The third babbeh is blue and purple, and doesn’t have a hornie or wingies.
Your mummah comes over and starts feeding the first babbeh.
Then you feel that a fourth babbeh is about to come out.
“Anudda babbeh?”
Your daddeh looks at the bag of special mummah nummies you’ve been numming ever since you became a soon-mummah.
“It says it reduces the size of the litter, so I think this should be the last one.”
Mistah Cal looks at your daddeh and grins.
“Bet?”
“What?”
“Bet! Put money on it!”
You don’t know why hoomins are so obsessed with muh-nees. They’ll do anything to get them! You still remember the things your old daddeh said he wanted to do to you for muh-nees.
You just don’t get it! What’s the big deal? They’re just green papery things! They don’t do anything! You nummed one once, and they aren’t even that tasty!
Hoomins.
You also still remember how mad your old daddeh was when you nummed his muh-nee.
Then your uncle Jim grins too.
“I’ll get in on that action, Cal. Whaddya say, twenty bucks this is the last one?”
“You’re on, Jim. Man, we should have invited Pierre. You guys know the dude calls a grand pocket change?”
For some reason, your mummah, daddeh and uncle Jim look surprised. You don’t get that, either.
“Wut am gwand?”
Mistah Cal strokes you again.
“Waaaaaay too much money to call pocket change, Lav.”
That doesn’t really explain it, but good enough.
Might as well ask, while he’s here.
“Wai hoomins wike muh-nees su mu–Eep!”
“I’ll answer that later, Lav. I’m about to either win or lose this bet.”
The fourth babbeh comes out, you lick her clean, and she replaces the second babbeh on the teat, who your daddeh starts feeding.
This one is purple and… green?
“Hey, just like Piccolo! I’ll have to tell him later.”
Wait, what?
Your mummah, daddeh, and uncle are just as confused as you.
But mistah Cal isn’t.
“One of Lavender or Oak’s parents was probably green. This also happened when Snowball gave birth. But that wasn’t the strangest thing about little Mayday.”
Your daddeh nods.
“I don’t know about Lav, but Oak’s father was green and red. That explains it.”
You’ve met Mayday. She’s nice too, and she can walk on walls. And ceilings. When you met her, she asked you if you wanted to play huggy tag, and you said yes.
You lost.
Then you finally notice something about your fourth babbeh.
She’s got a hownie and wingies.
Everyone is silent as you look at the little hornie-wingie babbeh.
But you remember what your daddeh said about this, too.
Hornie-wingie fluffies are not munstahs. They’re just fluffies. You’ve met hornie-wingie fluffies before, and they were all nice.
“Mummah wub aww babbehs.”
The hoomins let out a sigh of relief.
“Look at that, a full set! This is Snowball all over again.”
“So it’s over, right Cal?”
“If if is, Les, I’m twenty bucks poorer.”
Then some weird blobby thing comes out of you.
“Aaaaaand I just lost. Oh well. Ya win some, ya lose some. Ha, a few weeks ago, I did both at the same time. Mazel tov, Lav.”
As mistaw Cal gives uncle Jim two muh-nees, you num the blobby thing, because you just know you’re supposed to.
Then you look at mistah Cal.
“Wut mazzew towf meen, mistah Cal?”
“It means congratulations, Lav. You’ve got four happy, healthy foals. No runts! We had one when Snowball gave birth. Dropped dead seconds later. I threw it out before she could notice, and she still doesn’t know, so shush, nobody tell her.”
After all of the babbehs have had milkies, and you’ve nummed some of the mummah nummies, daddeh takes you, Oak, and your babbehs back to the saferoom with the blooper.
blip
Then, the six of you curl up in the special mummah bed daddeh got you. It’s purple, like you, and has room for all of you.
As Oak keeps an eye on you, you curl up with your babbehs, wrapped in your bestest daddeh blankie, and fall asleep.
It’s been a long bwite time.