“I’m telling you, Loretta, you’ve gotta see this.”
“Okay, Okay, fine, show me.”
Jitters has been barely keeping himself together from the utter giggle fit he’s been having during a video call with Loretta. She could barely understand him through the tears and laughter.
Rushing to set things up, Jitters propped the phone up and placed the foal and his frog plushie in front of the camera so he could see. Loretta’s eyebrows raised upon looking at the foal.
“Wow! Lookit you! You’ve grown up so much!” She says, smiling at the giggling bundle of fluff.
The alicorn flutters his wings, delighted to seeing his daddeh’s friend in the ‘talkie box’. “Hewwo!! Babbeh gib daddeh biggeth funnie!”
“I see that. If he laughs any harder, he’s gonna get hiccups~ What’s that you have there?” Loretta asks, gesturing to the frog plush toy.
The foal looks at the stuffed toy, gasping with excitement at being able to show off his new friend. “Am thtuffie fwen!! Am gween!”
Loretta gives an exaggerated nod, pretending to be just as impressed and excited as one would be to a two year old. “That certainly is a green stuffy friend! ‘Daddy’ says your teeth have been growing in, and you’ve been learning a lot of new words. Is that true?”
The alicorn nods enthusiastically, showing off his two new front teeth. “YEA!! Am got TWO nyew teef!! Am weawn wotth wif Big Buwd, an’ Eawnie, an’ Buwt, an’ Mith-tah Wah-gerth, an-”
“You’ve been watching Sesame Street and Mister Rogers?”
Jitters manages to control his giggling long enough to interject into the conversation. “Yeah, I’ve been setting up a playlist of videos and trying to get him to not be scared of M-O-N-Sters. It’s a work in progress.”
“Huh. I see…” Loretta hums, giving the alicorn a look of curious intrigue.
Jitters giggles a bit before asking the foal. “Hey, can you say ‘FROG’?”
The foal hums, unsure, and glances at Loretta. Jitters gives him an encouraging nod.
“Go ahead! Your stuffy friend’s a Frog. Just try. Say ‘FROG’.”
The alicorn takes a deep breath, and with all the confidence and bravado his little lungs can belt out, he loudly exclaims.
“FUCK!”
Jitters bursts into another bout of laughter as as Loretta snorts a laugh, completely caught off guard by the baby fluffy’s naive exclamation. He tries to hide her laugh behind her hand, taking a moment to reel from the fluffy’s unexpected cursing.
The foal nervously laughs, knowing that he did not properly say ‘Frog’, even though he tried so hard to. He felt that what he said was something bad, somehow, but he didn’t understand why. At least it made everyone laugh though. He didn’t get why it was so funny.
“S-Say… Say ‘Frog’ again, sweetie?” Loretta asks behind giggles.
“Fuck!” the alicorn responds. “Fuck. Fuck? Fuck! Ffffuuuuuck…”
“He’s… He’s almost got it.” Jitters chuckles, ruffling the alicorn’s mane to distract him from continuing to try saying ‘Frog’.
“Yeah, almost. Keep working on it, you’ll get there, sweetheart.” Loretta assures, still fairly amused by a fluffy actually managing to curse without complaining about ‘bad wordies’.
The alicorn looks at Loretta, a gleam of curious wonder in his eyes. “Babbeh name am Thweet-heawt?”
“Wh-? Oh. Oh, no, no. It’s not. Jitters, you haven’t named him yet??” Loretta asks, looking at the man in disbelief. Jitters’ jovial attitude quickly changed to sheepish uncertainty, fumbling over his words trying to figure out an excuse. In the end all he can manage is a meager shrug and wiry grin.
“Oops?”
Loretta rolls her eyes as a voice pipes up in the back ground, catching her attention. “Look, I gotta go, but you need to figure out a name for the foal soon. Can’t just be calling him Baby or Kiddo forever. I mean you can, but c’mon. There’s better names.”
“R-Right, I’ll figure something-” The video call abruptly ends when the voice in the background shouts.“MUNSTAH BABBEH AM-” The screeching voice was uncomfortably familiar. Jitters stares at the blank screen with the alicorn. “Out…”
With a sigh, he pockets the phone and looks at the foal. “Well. I guess that’s gonna be our next goal… What should we name you?”
The foal looks up at him expectantly and there’s a moment of thoughtful silence before his tummy loudly growls. Jitters huffs with a grin. “Let’s think on it while we grab some food, shall we?”
“Otay!”
You are a foal. You sit on the table in the nummie room where Daddeh warms up milkies and cooks the nummies that he calls ‘grilled cheese sammich’ and ‘tomato soup’. You both have been trying to think of a name for you.
“A name’s pretty important. It’s gotta feel good, and fit right. Like getting new glasses.” He says.
You don’t know what glasses are, but you think you understand. Honestly, you thought you would be happy just to have any name, but Daddeh’s words resonated with you. A name is important. You’re not sure how, but you just know deep in your heart that having a name is super special. He wanted to give you a name that would be right for you, and you appreciated how much he cared about it.
“Hm… Mike? No… Toaster? Marshmallow? Nahh… Maybe a reference to something?” He ponders, giving you a bowl of warm milkies before flipping his ‘sammich’ to grill both sides evenly. You didn’t understand why he put your milkies in a bowl. You stare down at it, trying to process how in the world you were supposed to num them.
“Daddeh? Whewe miwkie pwathe…?”
Daddeh looks over to you, trying to understand your query. “Oh! We’re gonna try something a little different this time, since your teeth are starting you grow in. Think you can drink the milk without a bottle or the… uh, the ‘milkie place’?”
You look at the milkies in the bowl and frown. After a moment of deliberation you shake your head. “Nu.”
Daddeh sighs, but gives a small grin. “C’mon, just try?”
“How?”
“You just stick your mouth in it and drink, silly.” He answers with a chuckle, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
You look back down at the milkies and run your tongue over your new two teeth, trying to prepare yourself to follow Daddeh’s instructions. You lean your head down, hesitating a moment before trying to dip your mouth into the milkies. Only your mouth isn’t the only thing to go in the milkies. You misjudge the distance and your whole muzzle dips under the surface of your meal, startling you when the milkies go up your nose. In a panic, you attempt to scream as your face lowers further getting the milkies in your eyes. You feel Daddeh’s fingers grab you by your mane and quickly yanking you up, rescuing you from drowning in your meal.
You cough and sputter, your little hooves scrabbling to wipe the milkies off your face as you feel tears well up in your eyes. You did not like numming milkies from the bowl! The milkies in the bowl were so mean! Your nose burned as you coughed and sputtered, trying to get the milkies out.
“Uuuhhuuhuuuhuu!! Nu wike meanie miwkie boww!” You cry as Daddeh pats you on the back with a finger.
“Hey, hey, it’s okay. You just gotta practice, alright? Just like learning to walk or using the litter box. You’ll get it eventually.” Daddeh says, chuckling as he wipes the milkies off your face.
You sob a little more when he pulls away to retrieve his nummies. You were hungry, but you didn’t want these milkies! These milkies were mean and made your smelling place have the worstest burnie hurties! You continue to sulk and give the milkie bowl as much of a mean look as you can give it. Maybe if it knew how much it angered you, you could num the milkies without them hurting you.
Daddeh sits down near you with his hot nummies. It smelled really good. The crispy ‘sammich’ was buttery and the cheese looked wonderfully gooey. The tomato soup smelled warm and flowery, and made you think of the tasted thing you could ever imagine!
“Daddeh hab thkettie? Gib babbeh onwy widdwe?”
Daddeh looked at you in confusion. “Mm? No? I don’t have any spaghetti, that’s just soup. Where’d you learn what spaghetti was?”
You pause to think. Where did you hear Sketties from? “Nu knu! Onwy knu am beth-teth nummie ebah!”
“Huh. Weird. Well, there’s no spaghetti, besides, you’re still too young for trying solids. You gotta wait for some more teeth to grow in before then and I don’t wanna risk you getting a tummy ache. Try to drink your milk.” He says, numming his ‘sammich’ after dipping it in the delicious soup.
You pout, a little upset that he wasn’t sharing his nummies. You really wanted to taste that soup! “Daddeh, peese gib babbeh thkettie thoop? Onwy widdwe?”
“I said No.” He answers tersely.
“Wai nu gib babbeh thkettie thoop?! Am bad babbeh?! Onwy wan widdwe thoop! Wan widdwe thoop nao!” You cry and move a little closer towards his nummie bowl, trying to convince to give you just a little. Just a lick of that tasty smelling soup.
“I said No. You’re too little.” Daddeh raises his voice, giving you a frown as he scoots his nummies away from you. The sudden change in his attitude has you stopping in your tracks, afraid. “This soup will hurt your tummy. Do you want your tummy to hurt?”
You look from his face to the bowl of soup with wide eyes, terrified and on the brink of tears. “N-Nu…”
“Then drink your milk. You can try a taste when you’re older and all your teeth have grown in.” He responds, roughly picking you up by your scruff and setting you back in front of your milkie bowl. You sniffle, feeling heart hurties at being scolded and denied a taste of his nummies. It wasn’t fair! You didn’t want to be ‘too little’! But you didn’t want tummy hurties either… You pout and sulk and quietly cry a a few minutes, staring at your milkies, still unsure of how to num them out of a bowl. Occasionally, you turn your head to glance over at daddeh, only to see that he’s still carefully watching you while he eats.
Eventually, you catch him using a spoon to num the soup. The movement brings you out of your sulking to curiously watch how he brings the nummies to his mouth. You look back at your milkies, and them back to his soup. They both kinda look the same, just different colours. You look at your milkies again, and mimicking your Daddeh, you stick your froont hoof into the milkies and bring it to your mouth. Success! Well… Kinda. It’s not as much of a mouthful that you’d get compared to when you drank from your milkie place machine, but at least it’s not hurting you!
You repeat this several more times, dipping your hoof in the milkies and suckling the liquid off. It’s slow, and tedious, but at least you’re eating. You hear Daddeh put the spoon down, and look over at him. He has lifted his nummie bowl to his mouth and now he’s drinking from the rim of it! You watch him finish his delicious smelling soup before looking back at your bowl. You’re far too little to lift it, but maybe you can still try to suck on the rim to drink your milkies?
You try to put your mouth on the rim of the bowl, but it doesn’t exactly align right, so you’re twisting and turning your head to try to fit your mouth on it. It’s not working. Maybe you need to try a different part? You reach over, trying to bite down a different side of the bowl, but you still can’t seem to get it. You feel yourself getting frustrated. You step your front hooves into the bowl, reaching your little neck over to bite down on the rim from the opposite side of the bowl. You got it! Now all you need to do is start sucking and you can drink your milkies!
Except the milkies are going in your mouth… The milkies are still just sitting in the bowl! Why won’t the bowl let you have your milkies?! You whine around the bowl, refusing to let go of the rim. Your hooves splash in the milk, urging them to go to the part where your mouth is. Nothing works. You feel so angry! Why won’t this work?! Why can’t you just drink the milkies out of the bowl?! You cry and bite as hard as you can, giving the milkies as many sorry hoofies as you can muster, splashing the liquid nummies all over the place. You hear daddeh shout something, but you’re just too upset to listen. You just want to eat!! Why won’t this stupid bowl let you eat?!
You slip in the milkies, and tumble sideways, knocking the bowl over and spilling the milkies all over Daddeh’s table. Daddeh says words that feel bad, and milkies go up your nose. You can’t do anything but lie in the mess and cry, too upset at your failures to do anything else.
“That’s enough practice for today…” Daddeh grumbles, clearly displeased at having to clean up your mess. You hear him turn on the sink, realizing that your milkies are going to be taken away and you’ll have to be given the dread bath.
“Nuuuuhuuhuuhuuu!! Babbeh thowwy!! Babbeh gib wickie-cweanie!!! Pwomithe!!” You sob, licking up the milk as quickly as you can, trying to show him that he didn’t need to do any cleaning. Daddeh doesn’t listen though. He already has a dish towel wiping up the milkies surrounding you before taking away the bowl. He returns to pick you up and finish wiping down the table, carrying you over to the sink.
“PWEETHE DADDEH NUUU!! BABBEH THOWWY! AM THOWWY!!” You cry out, feeling scardey peepees trailing down your legs and dripping onto the floor far below.
“H-Hey! Oh come on!!” Daddeh shouts, looking at the new mess you just made. You feel the grip of his hands tighten around you. You looks at you, more upset. “Hush. You’re gonna be fine.”
“UUUUUUHUUHuuhuuhuuhuuuhuuuhuuuuu!!!”
“I’m not-” He takes a deep breath. “I’m not angry at you. There’s no need to be scared. I’ve got you. Deep breath. In. And out. In. And Out.”
His grip lightens, and you try to trust his reassurances. You shakily follow along with his breathing instructions. Deep breath in. Slow breath out. Deep breath in. Slow breath out. Your crying subsides, though you can’t help but sniffle, thanks to all the milky snot oozing out of your nostrils. Your bottom lip trembles.
“Am-Am thowwy, Daddeh… P-Peethe, nu wan meanie w-w-wawa… Tu thcawy…” You plead, wrapping your llittle hooves around his thumb in a desperate hug.
“Well, you can’t stay covered in milk. Look, why don’t we play a game, will that help?”
You blink at him through watery eyes. “W-Whu game?”
“Let’s play pretend. Let’s pretend, that you’re a rubber duckie. You know, like on Sesame Street?”
“Wike wib Ewnie?” You ask, thinking back to Ernie and his favorite rubber duckie.
“Yes! Exactly like with Ernie. I’ll be Ernie, and you be Rubber Duckie. Rubber Duckie loves tubby-time, right?” He asks, pouring soap into the sink and splashing the terrifying waters to make bubbles. You only manage to give him a shaky nod. You watch as some of the pretty bubbles float up into the air, only partially distracting you from the scary water. “Do you remember how the Rubber Duckie song goes?”
“Um… Y-yuh?” You weren’t entirely sure you remembered it all, but you could try.
“Help me sing it.” Daddeh orders, turning off the water and carefully cradling you in his hands as he lowered you into the warm water. It takes everything in you to keep from screaming in fear. You had to pretend to be Rubber Duckie. Rubber Duckie loved water. You think Rubber Duckie might be insane.
“Rubber Duckie, you’re the one~” Daddeh sings, soothingly calm. You peep back, twice. Daddeh smiles.
“You make bath time so much fun~” He continues, singing directly to you as he runs his fingers through your fluff. Something about those words makes your heart swell with an unexpected happiness. You peep twice again, hesitantly feeling your fears melt away from the warmth and love your Daddeh was giving you despite this stressful experience.
“Rubber Duckie, I’m awfully fond of you~” Daddeh sings with you, getting you covered in soap and water, washing away the mess of milkies and pee. He even distracts you by blowing bubbles into the air, causing you to peep and laugh.
The rest of the bath goes by faster than you’d realized, and right as the song is finished you’re bundled up in a soft, dry towel and Daddeh has finished cleaning up your scardey peepees off the floor.
“There. That wasn’t so bad, now was it?” He asks. You shake your head no. It wasn’t as scary with Daddeh singing with you and playing pretend. Maybe Rubber Duckie should be your name! But you weren’t yellow like Rubber Duckie. And you certainly did not love the water. No. You were not Rubber Duckie. That would just stay pretend.
“Daddeh, wha’ babbeh namie?” You ask.
He looks surprised, as if he’d completely forgotten to think of one. He finished drying you off with the towel before setting you back down on the table.
“Well… Let’s see…” He thinks long and hard. Humming, sometimes changing his expression from a ‘maybe’ to shaking his head no. He looks at you for a long, long time. So you look back at him. It’s like a contest! A contest about looking at each other, and no blinking. You didn’t win.
He rests his head in his hand. You think this helps him think harder, so you touch your hoof to your cheek. He moves, resting his chin on his hand, so you copy him, touching your hoof to your chin with a little tap. He then moves again, pursing his lips and pressing his curled fingers against them. You stick your hoof in your mouth and slowly suckle on it.
He finally notices that you’ve been copying him, and he chuckles. “I can’t think of anything… Maybe we can take a break and watch cartoons.”
“Mm… Otay.” Thinking was hard. You could take a break.
Jitters carried the little foal to his room, setting him down on his desk before booting up his computer and searching up some retro cartoons he vaguely remembered from his childhood. If he had discovered anything from raising this foal, it was the incredible sense of nostalgia he got from re-discovering the once forgotten shows he’d rush to watch when he was a child. Granted the foal was a bit too sensitive for his favorites like Scooby Doo or Transformers, but The Care Bear Family? Strawberry Shortcake? Hell, even the more mild episodes of Loony Toons or Goofy were entertainment for the both of them to enjoy. Sure, a lot of the content was terribly dated, but they didn’t mind.
It wasn’t until the opening of a different show popped on that Jitters actually pondered an idea for the foal’s name.
"Rainbow Brite
See the shining light
Yes, I’m gonna take ya to Rainbow Brite
Starlite flies
Right before your eyes
And rainbow colors will cheer you u-u-up
Magic liiiight~
Gonna take you for a riiiide~
Rainbow Brite
See the shining light
Yes, I’m gonna take ya to Rainbow Brite"
Jitters stared at the opening, taking in as many details as he could before quickly looking down at the foal that was dozing off on his forearm and back to the video. His gaze shifted between the two a few more times as he processed the similarities between the foal and the characters in the show. The rainbow theme and the foal’s mane and tail, the creamy off-white coat of the pegasus, the golden hooves and star freckles. It was perfect.
He carefully nudged the foal, urging him to wake up. After a bit, the baby alicorn groaned and stirred, finally rousing from it’s almost asleep state. “Nnmm… Whu…?”
“Hey, wake up. I found a name for you.”
The foal was now excitedly trying to stand at full attention, anticipating his new moniker. “Weawwy?! Wha babbeh name?!”
“Your name is Rainbow Bright.”
You are a foal, and your Daddeh just gave you your very own name. It’s a better name than you could have ever dreamed of! Your heart swells with so many happies, you feel like you can fly!
You squeal and jump towards your Daddeh, giving him the biggest huggies you could possibly give. You thank him, over and over, telling him how much you love your new name. How much you love him! It’s the best day ever!
Loretta belongs to @UndercoverPallasCat
