//------------------------------//
// Nipples 
// Story: Nipples 
// by Trick Question 
//------------------------------//

Cup Cake arrived at my home earlier than usual, which was a relief. She was my last customer of the day, and I was looking forward to a break from my daycare job.

"How were the twins today?" she asked, loading each of the two giggling babies into the baby-holster saddlebags she wore strapped across her back.

I smiled. "Oh, they were no trouble at all."

Mrs. Cake shot me a sly look. "You're fibbing, dear. I can tell."

Shrugging, I admitted, "Well, Pumpkin did start a small fight with another baby over a toy, and then I had to nudge Pound free from the overhead light fixture with a broom and a safety net. But it's fine! They're just being foals."

Cup laughed brightly and shook her head as both children squirmed up against her sides. "I'll never know how you do it. Managing so many little ones at once!"

I tidied up the large crib as I spoke to her. "It's my talent, I suppose. Fortunately, I'm only scheduled into the early afternoon on Tuesdays. Now that these last two are taken care of, I'll have some time left for myself before Button gets home," I said. "Now there's a challenge. Just wait until the twins are his age..."

I noticed Mrs. Cake's jaw tense. "Ah, well... we'll cross that bridge when we get there!" she said, with a nervous chuckle. "Parenthood, am I right?"

"Nothing harder or more rewarding," I said, and we waved to one another as she walked out of my door. I closed it behind her and breathed a sigh of relief.

Finally. It might be my talent, but that doesn't mean taking care of babies isn't exhausting. I sat down in my favorite chair and picked up the latest Daring Do novel.

My muzzle was buried in the book for fewer than five minutes before I heard the front door creak open. I stood up and set the novel down on the end table. Button coming home early usually meant he had a bad day at school.

Button Mash slipped inside and quietly shut the door, sending a clear sign that something was wrong. "I'm home, Mom," he said in an uncharacteristically soft voice, then sighed and trotted into his room.

I could sense that Button and I should talk, but I knew he needed space to unwind first. I set to making his favorite snack: graham crackers with lemon icing and a tall glass of milk. Even in the glummest mood, he wouldn't be able to resist a treat like this one. I took my time putting it together so he could have a few minutes of peace, then I knocked on his door.

"What," came the soft voice from the other side of the door. My little colt sounded nothing like his usual, boisterous self.

"Mommy has your favorite snack," I said.

I waited for a few seconds, to no response. Then I opened the door and walked inside.

It was worse than I'd imagined. He wasn't playing video games at all, not even his Gamecolt. He just lay motionless on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. "Just leave it on my desk," he mumbled.

I set the snack on his desk, then walked over to his bedside and sat down on the floor. "Button, did something happen at school today?" I asked.

"Don't wanna talk about it," he said, with a sour frown. He flipped over onto his belly and covered his ears with his hooves.

A gentle touch moved one hoof aside. "I'm your mother, Button. You can tell me anything," I said. "I won't judge you. Did you have a falling out with some friends?"

Button Mash shook his head.

"Did you get in trouble for bad behavior?"

"No! Look, I..." he started, then sighed. Button turned to face me and sat up on the bed. "Mom... um, can I ask you something?"

I smiled. "Of course you can."

He took a moment to clear his throat. "Can I wear pants?"

I blinked a few times. "Pants?" I asked.

"Yeah. I remember Dad used to wear them. Can I wear some?" he asked.

"Well, sure," I said. "But not all the time. You'll just get them dirty when you play outside."

Button's lips pushed tightly together. It almost looked like he was holding back tears.

"Sweetie? Are you okay?" I asked.

He shook his head. "Mom, can you keep a secret?"

Knowing the motions of a Pinkie Promise, I made them silently, then mimed zipping my lips shut and winked at him.

My son rocked back and forth on the bed in tiny, rapid motions. "Today we learned about fillies and colts in school," he said. "You know, what makes girls different from boys."

I took a deep breath. I was fairly certain I knew where this was headed, but it was up to my son to do the sharing. "Ah, yes. We've talked about this before, haven't we?" I said.

"Yeah. I mean, I know basic stuff, 'cause it's obvious if you look and sometimes I look even though I know it's rude," he said. "But everypony looks!"

"That they do. It's okay to look as long as you don't stare," I said. "But to be polite, you should also keep your tail down in public."

"Ugh, I know that stuff already," he said, rolling his eyes. "I mean... I..."

He stood up, trotted to the bedroom door and shut it, then walked to the window and pulled the shade down all the way.

Button Mash has always had difficulty keeping to a normal sleep schedule over Summer. I tried for months to get him to go to bed on time, but when school isn't in session he still wakes in the middle of the night and takes naps during the day. So, I reluctantly installed a special shade that blocks out almost all the sunlight. Even though it was still early afternoon, the room was now pitch black.

I heard him climbing back up onto his bed. "It's easier in the dark," he whispered. "I... I'm scared to say."

"It's okay, sweetie. Take all the time you need," I said, in as soothing a voice as I could muster.

There was a brief pause, and I felt my pulse quicken. Come on, Button. I know you can do this.

"Miss Cheerilee told us today that boy horses don't have nipples," came the meek little voice in the darkness. "Boy horses and boy mice don't have them, but other boy animals do."

"I see. She said that?" I said.

"Yeah," he said. "And, I almost said something back but... um..."

There was another extended pause.

"It's okay, Button. Go on," I gently urged.

He took a deep breath. "Mom, you know I have nipples, right?"

Reaching over to the window shade, I pulled it up just a crack. The room was still dark, but this way I could at least see my son's face. The look on his muzzle was an equal mix of confusion and pain.

"I know you have nipples, honey. It just means you're special, that's all." Even though I truly meant it, I worried calling something 'special' sounded fake. I could tell by skeptical look on his face Button wasn't buying it.

"Why didn't you ever tell me I'm weird?" he said, in a voice more accusing than asking.

"You're not weird, you're different. And we did talk about it once or twice before."

"What? I don't remember that."

"It was when you were younger. I guess you were too young to remember," I said. "I'm sorry for not bringing it up again, but I thought you already knew."

Button's lower lip quivered. "Does... does it mean I'm a filly? Or am I gonna turn into a girl?"

I shook my head. "No, it doesn't mean that. Some colts just have nipples. It isn't common, but it happens."

"Am I not gonna be a r-real stallion?"

"No, it doesn't mean that either," I said, and reached out to gently stroke his mane. "Having nipples doesn't mean anything at all. You'll be able to grow up and have babies with a mare. If you want to, I mean. You can still be a stallion in every way. All it means is that you have nipples."

Button Mash looked down at the bed, brow furrowed in thought. "Could we cut them off? I mean with a doctor."

I felt a sympathetic pang in my gut. "Sweetie, why would you want to do that? Are you worried other ponies will see them and treat you differently?"

"Um... yeah."

"Boy nipples aren't visible unless you get very close, dear."

"But I still know they're there, and ponies are gonna find out someday," he said. "Even if I wear pants all the time! I wanna get rid of them and be like other colts, Mom."

I sighed and hugged him. "When you grow up, you can do that if you really want to. But I think you're perfect the way you are, Button," I said. "You should try to learn to accept them, first."

"But... why do I have them?" he asked, pushing back from the embrace.

"Some colts are just born with them," I said. "It's natural variation. They're not going to develop into teats or make milk unless you go to a doctor and ask them to turn you into a mare. They just sit there."

"Then what good are they?" he asked. "How come other kinds of boy animals get nipples?"

"Well, it feels nice when they get touched," I said, grateful for the darkness masking my blushing cheeks. "When you get older, it feels even better. For when you have a special somepony, I mean."

Button snorted. "If I ever get a special somepony, she isn't gonna like them," he said. "She'll know I'm weird, like a mare."

"Maybe with the wrong special somepony, but if somepony really loves you for who you are, they won't care about something as tiny and unimportant as nipples," I said. "In fact, some ponies like nipples on a stallion, even though having nipples is rare. As I said, being a colt with nipples makes you special."

"Yeah right, Mom. How do you know ponies like nipples on a stallion?" he said, his voice tinted with anger.

I paused for a moment. Was I embarrassed to tell him? Should I be?

Of course not. If I didn't tell him now, everything I'd just lectured him on about being special and embracing who you are... it would be a lie. So I lifted the window shade all the way, and I smiled in genuine pride.

"Because your father had nipples too," I said.

"What? Really?" said Button Mash, his eyes wide. "But Dad was a real stallion, wasn't he?"

"He certainly was. And just so you know, I loved your father and his nipples," I said.

Button bounced in place on his bed. "That's cool," he said. "Wait, is it why he wore pants all the time?"

I shook my head. "No, he did that for work, and he didn't wear pants all the time, either. He never wore them when we went on vacation, for one."

My little colt exhaled and leaned back against the headboard of his bed. "I guess it's not bad then," he said, then squinted. "Mom? Do you think it's okay if I tell Sweetie Belle?"

I pursed my lips in thought. "Well, I don't know. Do you think she's the kind of filly who would accept you for who you are, and maybe keep a secret if you wanted that?" I asked.

He gasped and jumped out of the bed. "I know she is! I'll go talk to her now!" he shouted, opening the door and racing out of his room. Moments later, he peeked his head back into the bedroom. "Thanks, Mom," he said with a smile, then cantered off.

I felt my stomach rumbling as the adrenaline slowly filtered out of my veins. I had a feeling Button wouldn't be back for an hour or two, so I picked up his snack and proceeded to eat it. I could always make him another one, after all.

It's funny how the emotional toll of taking care of one unique little school-age colt can be just as exhausting as physically managing a room full of infants and toddlers. Still, there's nothing more rewarding than being a Mom—especially in those important moments where your love and support can make a real difference.