NOW WITH GREAT ART FROM THE AMAZINGLY TALENTED INFRAREDTURBINE! It’s nice to finally see the babies in illustrated form.
===
The weeks of pregnancy went by with relative ease. John tore up the carpet in the safe room and installed soft foam tiles which could be wiped off or rinsed clean. He also put some of the tiles on the walls, covering all four of them to a height of three feet. Just in case. He’d read about how much they could shit, and he didn’t want to be cleaning constantly.
He organized to take a few days off of work so he could be home for the birth, and set himself up in the guest bedroom so he could be a few feet away when Rosemary went into labor. He set up a baby monitor so that Rosemary could call to him anywhere in the house, both before and after the babies came. She spent most of her time eating, shitting, watching FluffTV and incessantly singing rambling songs to her unborn foals. The songs were incredibly annoying, but John knew that she was going to sing even more of them once the foals came, so he tried his best to tune them out.
Rosemary was a cheerful “soon-mummah.” She was happy to be having babies, and she babbled to John constantly about how thankful she was.
“Daddeh am bestest daddeh EVAH fow wet Wosemawy haf babbehs!” she would say a few dozen times a day. When Rebekah would visit, Rosemary would make sure to inform her repeatedly that John was the best daddy in the entire history of the world. But instead of the wide variety of reasons that Rosemary would list before the pregnancy, she focused solely on her babies. They were the most important thing to her. The only thing that occupied her mind day in and day out.
Each day she got a little bigger. Eventually she wasn’t able to move at all, and John settled her into the special bed/litterbox unit and started sleeping in the guest bedroom full time. As the window to her delivery date narrowed, John couldn’t help grow more and more worrid that something was going to go wrong. Everything seemed like it was going too well. It felt like something had to give at some point, and he had to wonder what it was going to be.
Then, on a Thursday night, John worried himself into a fitful sleep.
===
“SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!”
John was torn from his slumber, bolting upright in bed as Rosemary screamed over and over again. The baby monitor wasn’t on; John knew he’d be able to hear her through the walls. Oh, could he hear her through the walls. Clearly.
“DADDEH! BIGGEST POOPIES! OHHHHHH DEM BABBEHS COMIN NAO, DADDEH! HEWP WOSEMAWY! SCREEEEEEEEE BIGGEST POOOOOOOOOPIES!”
He ran into the safe room and quickly lifted Rosemary from her bed on to the birthing mat. Just in time, too; a few seconds later the first baby started to slide out.
“Just stay calm, sweetie,” John said in the most reassuring voice he could manage. “It’s going to be okay.”
“Biggest owies, daddeh! Speshuw pwace huwt suuuuuu bad! Nu feew pwetty an OOOOOHHHHH BABIES COMIN NAO DADDEH DEM COMIN NAO!” She cried as the first foal slid out of her and on to the mat. It had her colors exactly - pale yellow, with the beginnings of a canary yellow mane. Unlike its mother, it had a horn on its head.
“Look!” John said, moving the foal in front of Rosemary so that she could clean it. “It’s just like you, but it’s a unicorn!”
Rosemary beamed through her pain. “Babbeh am wike Wosemawy! Gud babbeh!” She leaned down and started to lick it clean, reeling at the taste. “Babbeh nu taste pwetty, but mummah haf tu cwean babbeh. Huu huuuuu.” As she cleaned, she gasped. “Nudda babbeh comin, daddeh! Suuuuu huwty!”
John looked back in time to see a second foal sliding out; this one was a deep red pegasus with the start of a light green mane. It was quickly followed by two more foals; a light purple pegasus with a developing dark blue mane, and a dark blue pegasus with a bright white mane. John moved them to the front to be cleaned, then moved the yellow foal to Rosemary’s teat to begin nursing. A minute later she pushed out the placenta, and it was over.
“Dem aww da babbehs, daddeh?” Rosemary asked as she cleaned her other three foals.
“That’s it, girl. You did good. Four good, healthy foals.” And no alicorn, unfortunately. Oh, well. You win some, you lose some.
“Wosemawy wub dem babbehs,” she beamed as she nudged the red pegasus on to her second teat. “Babbehs am bestest babbehs evah.” She held the other two foals as they peeped with hunger and sang a song about how they were going to get food very soon, but for now they should be quiet and wait because their mother only had two “miwky pwaces.”
John left her babbling about how much she loved them always and forever because of their perfection, and he gathered up the birthing mat so he could hose it off in the morning. He put on some gloves and dumped the placenta behind his fence, not wanting it to stink up the garbage. Something would eat it, anyway. Rosemary had plenty of food, so he didn’t feel that he needed to make her eat it. The thought really grossed him out. That done, he went back to check on the fluffies.
The yellow and red foals were nestled up into their mother’s belly fluff, and the purple and blue foals were eagerly drinking as much milk as they could. He had to really look to see the yellow foal; that’s how close his coloring was to his mother’s. It was an adorable scene, Rosemary muttering about love and huggies and her beautiful babies while two of them were snuggled up to her and sleeping. Rosemary looked up at John and beamed.
“Dem Wosemawy babbehs,” she said proudly.
“They sure are. They’re adorable.”
“Fankoo, daddeh. Fankoo fo wettin’ Wosemawy haf bestest babbehs evah. Wosemawy wuv babbehs. Wosemawy wuv daddeh. Su happies.” There were happy tears forming in the corners of her eyes.
“You’re welcome, girl. I’m glad you’re happy, and I’m glad you’re ready to raise your babies.”
“Yus, Wosemawy waise dem babbehs tu be bestest fwuffies! Gon teash dem tu make ONWY GUD poopies an peepees. In da wittah-box! Gon teash dem tu wuv daddeh an be gud an nevah be bad fwuffies!”
“Sounds like you’ll be a great mother. Are you ready to go back to sleep?”
The feeding foals had finished up and were crawling toward the sound of their mother’s voice. She reached out and pulled them to her stomach fluff, and they curled up with their siblings. They were all asleep almost instantly.
“Yus, daddeh. Wosemawy am su sweepy.”
“Okay, sweetie. I’ll see you in the morning for your first full day as a mother. Get as much sleep as you can.” He reached down and scratched behind her ears, and she cooed at him.
“Otay, daddeh. Fankoo. Bestest daddeh.”
He smiled, turned off the light, and left his fluffy family basking in the glow of the night light.
===
The babies grew quickly. Rosemary fed all of them equally, sang the same songs to all of them, and lavished affection on every one of them. From what John could tell she wasn’t treating any of them differently from the others. His worries quickly faded; drilling the rules into her head had apparently worked, and he was sure to have four well-behaved fluffies on his hands in a few weeks. He’d asked around, and some of his friends’ kids wanted fluffies. All of them would have good homes, and whichever one Rosemary picked to stay would be a welcome addition to the family.
The foals were too tiny to use the litterbox, so they just went to the bathroom wherever they were when the need struck them. Sometimes it was in Rosemary’s fluff. Sometimes it was on the floor. John would clean it up when he found it, but Rosemary would lick it up if she found it first, and she always licked it out of her fluff. “Nu taste pwetty,” she always complained in a low, sullen voice. “Babbehs nee get biggah, babbehs use wittah-box. Nu wan be eatin poopies. Nu am poopie fwuffy.” But she did it regardless, every single time.
Sasha mostly avoided the safe room. Sometimes she’d stare through the baby gate and watch the peeping foals as they crawled around. It wasn’t a predatory stare, though. To John it looked like she was more annoyed by the noise than anything else. Rosemary’s constant babbling and singing, the peeping and chirping of the foals. Nonstop noise, a constant assault on the senses. John figured she’d probably get involved once the foals were bigger, once they were moving around and talking. She’d been so gentle with Rosemary, it only made sense that she’d be gentle with the foals, too. John wasn’t going to force her. It’d surely just take a little time. Whenever Rosemary caught Sasha staring, she’d shout a happy hello, wave her hoof at the cat, and start pointing at her babies and babbling about them.
The foals’ eyes opened a week later, and they started speaking. The first one to speak was the yellow colt.
“Mu…mummah?” he asked, hesitantly. Rosemary grabbed him and hugged him tight, completely overwhelmed that her babies were talking.
“DADDEH!” she shouted. “BABBEHS AM TAWKIE BABBEHS NAO!”
John appeared at the door a minute later and looked down at the happy fluffies. The yellow colt looked up at John, sat on his haunches, and tilted his head.
“Hoomin? Da…daddeh?”
John smiled. “That’s right, little guy. I’m your daddy.”
The colt grinned. “DADDEH! WUV DADDEH!” The colt ran around in circles, shouting “DADDEH!” over and over again. As he ran, the red pegasus filly wandered over to the gate.
“Daddeh?” she asked, staring up at John’s towering form.
“Yep, little girl. I’m daddy.” He reached down and picked her up, cupping her in his hand.
She giggled and hugged his thumb. “Wuv daddeh,” she cooed. “Wuv mummah. Wan miwkies. Babbeh wan miwkies!” She started to suckle on his thumb, which made John laugh.
“Okay, girl.” He stepped over the gate and walked over to Rosemary, placing the red filly at one of her teats. “Here, get you some food.”
“Daddeh!” Rosemary giggled. “Babbehs am tawkie babbehs! Babbehs wuv mummah AN BABBEHS WUV DADDEH!” She was so excited that they recognized him as “daddy,” and was so happy that they loved him. It never occurred to her that their love was programmed into them, or that they might have declared love for any human who claimed to be their daddy. All she knew was that her babies loved her and that they loved their daddy, and she couldn’t think of anything better than that. So much love, so many huggies. Everything was so perfect!
“I see!” he said. “They’re going to be saying all KINDS of words soon. Which means…well, I think it’s time to give them all names. What do you think?”
Rosemary gasped. “Daddeh gif babbehs NAMESIES?”
John nodded. “Would you like that?”
Rosemary waved her front hooves in excitement. “Wosemawy WUV fo daddeh gif babbehs namesies!”
“Okay, then. Let’s see here.” He picked up the blue and white pegasus colt. The colt was very energetic and was always crawling around while peeping and chirping; John was sure the colt was going to be a playful bundle of energy. “I think I’ll name you…Sparky.”
“Fwuffy…Spawky?” the colt asked. “Spawky! Daddeh!” He was struggling with words but learning quickly, just like his siblings. John set the colt down, and Sparky ran over to hug his mother. “Spawky! Mummah! Spawky!”
“Mummah wuv Spawky!” Rosemary declared, hugging the little colt tight.
John picked up the purple and blue pegasus filly. The filly was shy and covered her face with her hooves, giggling to herself. She’d been talking in a very low voice about how much she loved her daddy, and now that she was close to him she was at a loss for words. “Hey, little girl,” John said. “You’re not scared, are you?”
She peeked out from behind her hooves. “Daddeh. Nu sc…scawed. Nu, daddeh. Wuv.”
John smiled. “You’re a sweet, shy little thing. I think I’ll name you Dahlia.”
Dahlia giggled and covered her eyes again. “Dawia. Fwuffy? Dawia. Wuv daddeh. Mummah!”
John placed Dahlia in Rosemary’s belly fluff, and the filly snuggled up to her mother, giggling and cooing. Rosemary hugged her, and Sparky moved in for a triple hug. He picked up the red pegasus filly, who had just finished feeding, and held her up to his face.
“Daddeh?” the filly asked, tiny beads of milk visible in the fluff around her mouth. “Wuv daddeh.”
“Well, aren’t you a little sweetheart?” John asked. “Such a perfect shade of red. I’m going to call you Rosie.”
“Wosie! Fwuffy Wosie! Wuv! Wuv daddeh!” She turned around in his hand and looked down at Rosemary. “Mummah! Wosie! Wuv!”
“Wosemawy wuv Wosie!” she shouted, reaching her front hooves out toward John. He leaned down and handed Rosie to her mother, who pulled her into the building fluffpile.
John reached over and picked up the final foal, the yellow unicorn colt, who had sprawled out near his mother’s tail. “And what about you, little guy? What do you think? What should I name you?” The colt didn’t respond; he curled up in John’s hand and sucked on a front hoof nervously. “I’ll tell you what. I think I’ll make you Fred.”
“Fwed?” the colt asked, removing the damp hoof for a second. “Fwuffy am Fwed? Wuv. Wuv daddeh. Mummah. Mummah! Wuv!” Fred shoved his hoof back into his mouth and began sucking on it with renewed vigor. John leaned over one more time and added Fred to the hugging fluffpile.
Rosemary curled around her babbling babies and beamed up at John. “Fankoo, daddeh. Daddeh haf bestest namesies fo bestest babbehs. Wuv daddeh. Wuv babbehs. Haf biggest heawt happies.” As was becoming a daily occurrence, there were tears forming in Rosemary’s eyes.
John bent down, leaned in close, and gave her a kiss on the top of her head. “I love you too, girl. Now that they all have names, it’s time to start getting them used to using the litterbox. Are you ready to start training them to be the best fluffies?”
“Wosemawy wiww teash babbehs how use wittah-box. Dem babbehs be gud babbehs, wiww teash dem soon.”
“Good, good. I’ll be back in a little while to check in on you. I’ve got to run to the store. Because you’ve been such a good mother, I’ve got to pick up some special food for you.”
Rosemary gasped. “Am…am sketties?”
All of the foals perked up at the mention of sketties, and started peeping and chirping, shouting “sketties!” between the noises.
John laughed. “It sure is.” He went to grab his keys, still laughing as the frenzied shouts of “SKETTIES!” kept going and going and going. The foals couldn’t eat sketties, but what the hell. They could try the sauce.
===
Rosemary’s belly was full of sketties, and her foals were all snuggled up and sleeping in her belly fluff. She sighed contentedly; she had never been happier.
Deep down she knew that she needed to follow all of daddy’s rules. The fluffies she’d watched in the big teebee box had taught her all kinds of lessons and daddy wanted her to follow them. She wanted to follow them, too. She DID love all of her babies. She WAS going to raise them to be good fluffies. They’d all get plenty of milkies and huggies and love, and she’d teach them to use the litter box and to be nice to humans and EVERYTHING. They would be one big happy fluffy family.
Daddy just didn’t understand some things. Rosemary realized it now. Daddy didn’t have babies of his own, so he didn’t understand everything about BEING a daddy to babies. What he didn’t understand is that sometimes there IS a bestest baby. Rosemary had been a bestest baby according to her mother. She remembered it clearly and fondly. Her mother had always given her just a little more attention. A little more love. A little more milk. Her siblings hadn’t wanted for affection or play or nourishment. None of them had been neglected, not even a little bit. But Rosemary had always been given a little extra because she was a little better. She was the bestest. There was nothing wrong with thinking a baby was a bestest baby. It was normal. Natural.
Rosemary had realized that her little yellow unicorn colt, now named Fred, was definitely her bestest baby. He’s opened his eyes first. He’d spoken first. And he looked JUST LIKE HER, except that he had a little pointy on his head! How could he NOT be the bestest? He was the first at everything AND he had her colors! How could a baby be any better than that?
She knew her daddy would be mad if she mentioned that the unicorn was the bestest baby. She decided to keep it quiet, to keep it to herself. It wasn’t exactly lying to daddy, was it? She was just not telling him something that might upset him, and who did that hurt, really? Nobody! All of her foals were happy and healthy, so if daddy didn’t catch her treating the unicorn any differently, how could he be upset with her? He couldn’t! Everything made sense. Deep down she felt a little guilty; daddy had always been so good to her, and she knew how important his rules were to him. But this was her bestest baby, which was more important than a silly rule. It would be a big secret, then. A big secret that daddy would never find out.
Rosemary nudged the unicorn out of the fluffpile. He peeped and stumbled.
“Wha, mummah?” he asked sleepily. “Fwuffy sweepie. Mummah.”
She pushed him past his sleeping siblings and set him at one of her teats. “Babbeh dwink mo miwkies,” she said quietly, not wanting to wake her other babies. “Fwuffy am bestest babbeh. Nee mo miwkies su can gwow up big an stwong. Nu wake bwuddah an sistahs. Dis am secwet.”
“Babbeh…dwink mo miwkies?”
“Yus, bestest babbeh. Mo miwkies den bwuddah an sistahs. Mo miwkies fo bestest babbeh. Onwy if bwuddah an sistahs am sweepin.”
“Babbeh…am bestest?”
“Yus. Nao dwink miwkies, bestest babbeh.”
The little unicorn latched on to her nipple and started greedily drinking, cooing quietly from time to time. Rosemary watched as her bestest baby drank his fill for the second time that night, a proud smile on her face. Her bestest baby would grow up to be super big and strong, and he would stay with her and daddy and they would be a happy family forever.
Everything was going to be amazing.
