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// Fleeing Feather (Featherweight) 
// Story: Potty Training Tales 
// by SuperPinkBrony12 
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It took only two simple words to give a pair of pegasus pony parents a particularly puzzling problem. They had moved to Ponyville from Cloudsdale when their son Featherweight had been born, planning to take advantage of the fact that Ponyville had a better education system or so they said. Though a bit on the scrawny side, his earliest years had passed without much incident and he seemed to have no real development issues. Every doctor and nurse they consulted even said as much.

But now that Featherweight is almost two years old, there was something he had to undergo if he was going to have any chance at getting into a pre-school, let alone kindergarten. It was something the pegasus parents still relatively young themselves hoped wouldn’t be anymore of a hassle than teaching their son to walk and talk.

Yes, it was time for Featherweight to start potty training. To learn how to go without diapers and do what all ponies his age did when they needed to go. The process sounded simple, but the parents knew that actually going through with the training probably wouldn’t be. Still, it had to be done for their son’s benefit.

It all seemed to start smoothly enough. The parents left Featherweight with a foalsitter while they went out shopping to pick up a “surprise” for their son. They soon found it and purchased it, bringing it home all wrapped up to give to their son.

The little pegasus was surprised and ecstatic to be given a present when it wasn’t his birthday or anything close to it. With a great deal of flapping and straining from his tiny wings, he managed to undo the wrapping paper on his present. What he was greeted with was a most unusual object. It looked like some kind of bowl, but it was brightly colored and had some big, funny words printed in pink on it.

“Surprise!” Mr. Featherweight declared. He was truly the spitting image of his son in almost every way, except for the eyes since he had bright green colored eyes instead of moderate yellow ones. “This is your brand new potty.”

“Potty?” Featherweight slowly sounded out the word. He didn’t know what it meant or how that applied to this plastic bowl that was much bigger than he was.

“That’s right, Featherweight! You’re so smart!” Mrs. Featherweight nodded her head. “It even says so right on the side: ‘My Little Potty’.” Although her son had inherited her moderate yellow eyes, there was little else to indicate a resemblance: A dark brown coat and a fluffy white mane and tail styled in ponytails.

Still, Featherweight just looked at the object before him with a puzzled look, sitting on his diapered rump as he tried to make sense of it all. “What potty for?” He asked as he looked up at his parents. The “potty” was definitely too small for them, but it still seemed too big for him. And that was the least of his concerns.

“Why, it’s for going potty of course.” Mr. Featherweight instructed. “You know, instead of going number one and number two in your diapers all the time. This one is built specifically for ponies your size. It’s a little big now, but you’ll grow into it in time.”

“From now on, you’re to use it whenever you have to go. Simply remove your diaper and sit on the potty,” Mrs. Featherweight added. “Then notify either your daddy, myself or a grown-up so that we or they may clean you up. Fortunately, your potty is one that comes with built in wipes for easy cleaning.”

“And that’s just the half of it,” Mr. Featherweight declared as he picked up the potty. “Once you’re all done, the potty has to be emptied out so it can be used again. That’s also where a grown-up like your mommy or myself comes into play. Only we or a trusted grown-up can take care of your potty.” Featherweight watched as his potty was carried away down the hallway, before he was marched down it as well by his parents. He was eventually brought into the bathroom. 

This bathroom had all the modern day plumbing fixtures that were fast becoming standardized across Equestria. A bathtub with an overhead shower, a modern style sink and faucet, and a much taller bowl-like object where Featherweight was brought before. It was bright white in color and had cool, metal pipes.

After setting down his son and his potty next to the massive bowl, Mr. Featherweight continued his explanation. “This is the toilet, the potty for grown-ups like Mommy and Daddy. Obviously, you’re too small and young to use it properly like we do. But once you’re done using your potty and have been cleaned up, somepony takes your potty and empties it into a toilet like the one you see before you. Do you want to know how it works?”

Featherweight nodded as he eyed the toilet. To him, it looked like it would take ten foals his size just to be equal in height.

“Well it’s simple.” His father said with a smile. “You just grab hold of this handle here, and push it down. The toilet takes care of the rest.” He grabbed the aforementioned handle with a hoof and pressed it down.

Suddenly, there was an unfamiliar loud noise. To Featherweight, it sounded almost like a roar. “Monster!” He screamed as his tiny wings kicked into overdrive! He fluttered high into the sky, straining himself quite considerably in the process. He flew up so high that he became eye to eye with the “mouth” of this great beast. His moderate yellow eyes locked onto ominously surging, spinning waters as they suddenly retreated down a hole at the bottom! He didn’t bother to stick around to see more, he flew atop the back and there he rested, convinced he was safe from this “monster”’s wrath.

Mrs. Featherweight could only sigh as she retrieved her son from his “nest” and brought him down. His previously pristine diaper was now stained and starting to smell, no doubt a result of all that straining he’d done during his panicked flight. Still, she knew she had to correct a more pressing matter first before attempting to change her son. “Featherweight, the toilet isn’t a monster. I know it may sound scary, but I promise you, it can’t hurt you and it won’t hurt you. The loud noise that you just heard is how the toilet cleans itself. It’s called a flush.”

“And now you know why you’re not allowed to use it,” Mr. Featherweight declared, before plugging his nose at the stench coming from his son. “Oh, if only you’d been able to do that in your new potty instead.”





The disappointed couple then went about changing their son’s diaper, sighing in disbelief that their attempt at starting Featherweight on potty training hadn’t worked out as intended. Still, they held out hope that in spite of this bump in the road there would be progress before long. Hardly anypony mastered potty training the first time they tried it, and so long as they could get Featherweight reasonably trained by the time he turned three all would be well.

But days went by, then weeks, and then months and yet Featherweight seemed to make no progress at all with his potty training. His potty chart quickly filled up with stormy clouds and frowny faces to symbolize accidents, and there was not a single gold star or positive note to be found anywhere.

It always seemed to start out the same way too. Mandatory diaper inspections at designated times, usually once in the morning and once at night and then again as needed after meals or bottles. If there wasn’t a wet or messy diaper to change, Featherweight’s parents would bring out his potty and set him upon it. Then they would wait, and wait, and wait and then wait some more for something to come out. Yet no matter how long they waited, their son would never seem to do anything in his potty. They tried to pass the time in numerous ways and even sought to give their son privacy when they believed that was what was causing him to be unable to go.

Alas, nothing worked. Potty time always ended the same way: Featherweight would eventually get up off his potty and trot away with his diaper back on. And within minutes he would come back, telling his parents that he’d had an accident and needed to be changed. It really seemed like he was going out of his way to not use his potty, no matter where it was or how much encouragement his parents provided. And trying to train him with the toilet was out of the question, there was no hope of him using that if he wouldn’t even use his potty like he was supposed to.

“I just don’t get what we’re doing wrong, hon,” Mr. Featherweight sighed as he and his wife stayed up late one night to try to figure out the answer to their problem. “It’s been almost half a year now and our son is still completely in diapers. I expected the training to be difficult but not this difficult. Just what are we going to do?”

“We have to keep on trying!” Mrs. Featherweight insisted and then got an idea. “Maybe if we take away our son’s diapers, that’ll enforce the notion that he has to use his potty! Otherwise he’s going to be in a lot of trouble.”

Mr. Featherweight wasn’t so convinced. “If he won’t use his potty now, what good will taking away his diapers do? He’ll just make messes on our floors,” And the muscular stallion sighed. “I know you don’t like it, hon, but I think we’re gonna have to put off the training for a while. Featherweight’s not ready yet. We can still keep his potty close by if he changes his mind.”





So for about a month and a half, Featherweight was freed from his obligation to use his potty, although he was still strongly encouraged to do so. Strangely, he seemed to start needing diaper changes more frequently as a result. And no amount of trying to get him onto his potty seemed to work.

Not even taking away his diapers worked as intended. Featherweight just went on the floors like his father had feared. And once he got in trouble for that he started inventing new ways to do his business, which usually meant sneaking outside to “fertilize the soil” or “water the daisies”.

Frustrated, the pegasus parents consulted every book and every foalsitter they could find on the subject, searching for any kind of solution even if it would only be temporary. Nothing worked. No amount of begging, pleading, positive or negative reinforcement or other efforts could get little Featherweight to use his potty even once.

Both Mr. and Mrs. Featherweight eventually forced themselves to come to a realization: Their son wasn’t going to be potty trained before he was three years old. In fact, they weren’t sure he’d ever be potty trained at all. They feared he’d be the only colt in all of Equestria to grow up still wearing diapers.

Featherweight didn’t care for his part. He didn’t care that he was in diapers even though other foals he hung out with or interacted with that were his age or older didn’t wear diapers. He was quite content with the way things were. His diapers worked just fine for their intended purpose, why should he be forced to give them up if he didn’t want to?

So the years went by with Featherweight remaining in diapers. As a result it was of little surprise to his exhausted and dismayed parents that no preschool or kindergarten was willing to accept him. Some degree of potty training was required, and without it Featherweight could only be tutored from home.

It wasn’t until he finally entered into public school in the first grade that the little colt started to realize that he couldn’t not potty train forever, even if he really wanted to. So many ponies started teasing him relentlessly every day over his pampers, regardless of his best efforts to hide them. And it only got worse whenever he needed a change and the whole schoolhouse suddenly had to have all the windows in the classroom open.

Try as he might to ignore the teases, the taunting, the bullying and the looks, Featherweight was forced to accept that his days in diapers would need to come to an end. He was still too small to really use the toilet back home, but the schoolhouse in Ponyville thankfully still had the old fashioned squat models that were just the right size for him. And at home his training potty worked as intended, much as he hated the idea of using it.

But he knew he couldn’t go back. His parents would never let him wear diapers around the house no matter how many “accidents” he started having, and the fear of being bullied, teased and rejected by his peers made the still scrawny pegasus too afraid to wear them to school. A doctor’s note would be no good either because no doctor could see anything wrong with him and the colt knew he was not gonna be able to fake a convincing letter.

“I hate that I’ve been forced to you use, you stupid potty!” Featherweight thought to himself. “If only I could still wear my diapers.” It was a naive wish to be sure, but it was a wish that Featherweight never stopped thinking about even long after he knew it wasn’t going to come true.