Bathtime for Ponies Part 2

by Starry Eyed


Fancy Pants

“And… just a little more warm water...” You murmur to yourself as you try to get this bath just right. Your facial expression undergoes various strains as you try to get the water as hot as can be comfortable, accounting for a foal’s sensitiveness to hotter temperatures of course.

After carefully adjusting everything, you are finally sure that the water is just hot enough to be thoroughly relaxing, but not too hot. And there are enough bubbles to be fun, but not enough to be annoying. You wanted this bath to be just right. Not because Fancy Pants was picky, he actually enjoyed a good bath, but even from the time he was a foal he had an eye for quality and knew something great when he came across it. As such, he liked his baths to be just right. You had gotten lucky with the first bath, but the second bath just hadn’t been very enjoyable. Fancy Pants had pretended not to mind, but you knew better.

With preparations complete you hurry to find the little colt. You are pretty sure he would just have come when you called him, but you didn’t think he would hear you. This mansion was ridiculously huge, and the chance that he would be within casual calling distance was miniscule. Thankfully you now knew your way around and even more thankfully there were only a few places Fancy Pants liked to hang out. You check the parlor, the sitting room, the dining room, the formal dining room, the piano room, the play room, the lounge, his room of course, the hallway, the side hallway, the grand hallway, and the kitchen.

You make a mental note that if you ever become this rich, you still want a house with a number of rooms you will actually use. You made the bath hotter than the ‘perfect’ mark just because you knew this would happen. You are beginning to worry the bath will be too cool before you find him when you see him outside. You step out the back door into the gardens and hurry to his side. “Greetings young master” you remark. It had sounded weird the first time you had said it, but you soon realized there weren’t many options. Calling him just “Fancy” or worse “Pants” just didn’t seem like the right thing to call the young foal. ‘Fancy Pan’ was too long and he didn’t like “dear or sweetie” very much. “Hey you” didn’t seem appropriate either, so “Young Master” worked very well in this case.

You tell him it’s time for the bath. Fancy Pants is conflicted between getting a bath or staying to watch the pretty sunset. You realize this, “Don’t worry; the sun won’t set for at least another half hour. If we hurry you can get a hot bath and watch the sunset.” Fancy Pants really liked the sound of that and began trotting after you. After passing through more rooms than should have been necessary, you finally arrive at the bath. Fancy Pants had chosen to run alongside you rather than be carried, and is just barely starting to sweat. You close the door behind you and help the young colt into the bath.

You anxiously anticipate his response, and to your great relief the bath is absolutely perfect by his standards. Nailed it! You rock. You get out the shampoo, which in this case is the same premium brand that you previously used on Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon, which you are still convinced is just ordinary shampoo that someone dubbed “premium” and made unnaturally expensive. Fancy Pants stops you, he doesn’t like that shampoo. You may get in trouble with his parents for not using it, but they aren’t the ones getting bathed after all. “Alright then young master” you say as you set your travel bag on the tubs rim, “You decide what brand you want.”

Fancy Pants opens each bottle of shampoo and smells them. After trying them all, he points to one that is a homemade brand that doesn’t even have the money to afford a proper name; it’s just “shampoo.” You look at him, “Are you sure? It isn’t expensive or famous or anything.” Fancy Pants never was the one to like something just because it was the richest, nor dislike it because it wasn’t. You agree and pour some into your hand.

You begin lathering the plain white soap into his little mane. Fancy Pants seems to enjoy the feeling of having his scalp massaged with the admittedly great smelling soap, so you make it last twice as long as normal. Once his mane is fully lathered you get out the sapphire rinsing dish and scoop up some water to pour over his mane. After seven rinses his mane is clean and, somehow, already seems combed perfectly. Some ponies just have it natural you guess.

Fancy Pants already knows that it’s time to wash his tail, so he politely complies without being asked. You thank him and pour some more shampoo into your hand and begin stroking it through his tail. Since this isn’t your first time bathing him you’re not even surprised that his tail is dirty. Not one to meet high society stereotypes, Fancy always enjoyed playing outside in the sun and as a result, getting dirty. You laugh at his modest honesty and continue for a full minute before you are sure you got all the dirt out.

You look over your work once more to make sure no dirt is left before getting the dish again to rinse the tail. After seven more scoops are ladled over it his tail is clean. You give him the same toys to play with that you would give any foal, not treating him differently from anypony. Fancy Pants takes the toys and plays with just like any foal would, not really being different from anypony.

You casually sit there beside him and wait until the bath water is no longer warm and he looks at you with eyes that ask to be let out. You nod to him in understanding and unplug the tub before setting him on the mat. You take out a soft towel to dry him with and briskly dry him off. Once dry his hair falls perfectly into place without combing. “Looking sharp as always young master” you state partly just to sound fancy.

You take out another towel and take him down to watch the sunset. You lay the towel out so that he won’t get dirty again. You both watch as the sun falls below the horizon and realize just how spectacular an event it really is.

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After tucking him into bed for the night, you give your reports to his parents. You even admit that you changed shampoos. They take it very well, saying that if he approved it, then it must be the best. They ask to know what brand it is and you tell them it’s a small family owned brand that nopony really knows about. “That’s my boy, he’s got a real eye for things you know. We must spread the word, throw in one of those… ah… what did you call them? Bath toys? Yes throw in a few of those, capital idea really. You see, Everypony in Canterlot will be wanting one for their foals.”