The Inevitable Rise and Liberation of Scootadad!

by Adorned ungulate

Chapter 1: Epic Pillow Fight of Epicness

"Bored bored bored..."

Scootaloo and I were hanging out in our bedroom. When her mother moved back in she ceded us the master bedroom and took Scoots' room, plus the queen-sized bed. My daughter and I have matching twins parallel to each other between her dresser. It's feels like summer camp all year round and pretty much negates any chances for nocturnal intimacy on my part.

I was resting between the two beds reading. My daughter was on one of the twins by the windows looking forlornly out at the rainy Sunday afternoon. She didn't really have her own bed, just whichever one she collapsed into when spent. We were confined to the bedroom since mom was entertaining a "client" in the living room. It chaffed my pride being a grown stallion shut out of my own place but I also want her to make enough to move out. Likely she'll spend it capriciously as usual, however.

I nodded to the easel on the opposite end of the room. "Why don't you draw your mother that enderpony like you promiced?"

"No..." Scootaloo collapsed onto the mattress. "Dad, can we do something fun?"

"How about some arithmetic worksheets?"

"Daaad."

I put my book under the bed and looked over at her. "Something fun?"

She nodded. So I chucked a pillow at her.

Giggling she tossed it back. I used a wing to deflect the worst of it. "Dad! No blocking."

I'd have to take her hits bravely but that didn't mean I was defenseless. I took up pillows in each hoof and sent them flying. She laughed and then it was a free-for-all. All four pillows changed hooves. She leaped into the air and onto the other mattress, her little orange wings buzzing, pelting me right in the muzzle. I spent her spinning with a hit from the heavier down pillow.

"Are you okay?" I was answered by a hit to the left eye. "Ahh!" I sent it right back into her torso. Not holding back anymore.

"You're gonna get it now, dad!" She brought one over her head and towards my head with a mighty huck which I easily dodged. I let a wild side throw fly and it just missed the easel, hitting her toy shelf and knocking down a big box of assorted crayons. I brought my hooves to my mouth with an exaggerated shocked expression. "Dad!"

I broke the détente with yet another volley. She laughed, twisting in the air and deflecting bows with her own pillows. We had not battled like this for a long time. She was old enough now that I didn't have to hold back and had quite an arm on her now in fact. I was frankly happy we could find something to occupy ourselves. She can certainly be a hooffull when she can't be active. And I treasure these idle moments with her. She won't consider me a suitable playmate forever. As we battle I ruminate how I don't want this to stop. I don't want it not to be fun to hit your dad with a pillow or to do silly dances when a favorite song comes on. I don't want pushing on the park swings to end or not to have drawings to hang up at work. But even now I can look at her and see the mare to come (and the teenager in between) while still getting glimpses of the little foal she was. A little melancholy to tint the fun. Ow! That was a good hit...

Half an hour later she was giggling non stop. "Scoots, darling that's probably enough. You're working yourself up into a lather. How about a story?"

She pouts but relents after some convincing. I've got to be a parent as well. I may not be strict about her cleaning this room up but I've got to control the chaos sometimes.

Dinner time brings its own struggles. It's just her and me as usual. Her mother rarely spends much time with us and when she does she mostly lounges on the couch. It's what I call the lean week, the one before payday. Sometimes bills are due and the fat week is under seven days and the lean week bloats over past it's allotted timeframe. I struggle to make something nutritious out of the meager larder.

"Scoots, do you want some rice? I made up some lots of brown rice."

"No."

"Erm, peas and carrots?"

"No!"

"Want a bagel with cream cheese?"

"Cereal."

I sigh and make her a bowl glad that my mother isn't here to see this. At least she's eating. For me... Lets see. I've got marinara and... Navy beans? Maybe I can make a sort of chili out of this mess. Adding some spices and putting it over rice makes it sort of possible. Dumping on lots of Appaloosa Pete's Hot Sauce helps. If I can't make it tasty I may as well make it spicy. It's filling enough. Sweet Celestia I've got another four days of this. It always makes me feel like I've failed her when food runs low or when I can't afford a toy she wants. Good thing that scooter is nice and sturdy. She's put it through its paces enough. Well, I know why money is so tight of course. It hemorrhages out in a familiar and now completely boring manner.

I sit down and watch her eat. She doesn't spill the milk anymore. My daughter. I wish I could give you the best life. I wish I could afford Summer Flight Camp or Junior Speedsters. Not that she could really handle it until she, until her wings catch up with the rest of her body and her grand ambitions. Maybe I could hire a coach, ask my parents for a loan or something. I can't help but give her a hug and she looks up at me with a bit of milk dribbling off her chin. I hope one day those big purple eyes make some lucky colt or filly's heart skip a beat, and I hope they are kind to her. Celestia knows I can't save her from getting her heart broken half a dozen times before she finds her way.

"Ice cream?" She flashes me a roguish smile and her eyes sparkle hopefully. Well, she's not grown up yet, it seems. Thankfully I let her talk me into that huge tub of Neighopitan.

A few hours later another bedroom battle began.

"Time for bed, honey bunch."

"Daad, please let me stay up a bit more?"

"It's a school night, dear. I've got to get up early for work. Do you want a story?"

She wrinkles her nose then gets a brilliant idea. "Some music?"

"What do you want to hear?"

She jumps in the air with wings buffeting. "DJ PON-3!"

I groaned. Why did I ever reveal that she had weekend shows broadcast on Everfree Radio. I could only hope tonight called for some relaxing trance or electropop or something.

"Ah, hardstyle anthems. Great."

I tucked Scoots in and gave her a kiss. "Can I have some water?"

"Of course, dear."

"Daddy, I'm hungry."

"You're stalling. You had plenty to eat." I managed to fit in a healthier snack in after dinner. She knew that if this worked she could linger over her food and stay up later. I was wise to her tricks by now.

She falls dramatically down on our former weapons arsenal, the pillows. "Sleep is so boring."

"Sleep is awesome. I wish I got more of it. Just think of all the exciting dreams you'll have." This was a tired rebuttal and she huffed at it. I kind of deserved it for relying on platitudes.

"I'm going to have a bath, okay? I'll be close though." This was a new strategy I devised. I hated night bathing as it gave me bed mane but me not being there took away a source of stimulation. Otherwise she stays up telling me the arcane rules of Ponémon or reliving an exciting adventure with her friends. And I am usually too hesitant to stifle her freedom of expression to tell her to be quiet. The gambit was that I not take so long as to miss my sleep but long enough for her to go to drift off.

I gave her another kiss on the forehead. "Goodnight, darling. Sleep well."

She was thankfully dozing soundly when I returned. Another day behind us. Lots of quality time spent with my daughter, but then another weekend where I did nothing but spend all my free time with an energetic filly. It's all in how you contextualize it I guess. I slipped into bed and tried to get as much rest the alarm clock would allow.

Author's Note:

This chapter is dedicated to all the single dads out there, providers and primary caregivers, juggling jobs and family, making car payments but taking mass transit or cycling to work.

I will probably keep the chapters short and manageable since I compose them entirely on my phone. Criticism and opinions are welcome. Let me know if there's something you want to see.

Comments

[Celestias Paladin]

*grins* I always like a non-Scootaorphan/Scootabuse fic. So far it looks good

[Adorned ungulate]

3251987 Scoots isn't the one suffering in this fic. :3

Thanks for the input, more to follow!

[Celestias Paladin]

3252110
Thank God, with all the crap the fandom has done to her Scoots needs some happy fics

[Cold Spike]

Feels are happy 3252138

[Celestias Paladin]

3252262
Indeed