//------------------------------//
// Granny-Smith 
// Story: Bathtime for Ponies Part 2 
// by Starry Eyed 
//------------------------------//

	As you sit by the tub, waiting for it to fill, you admire the room it is built in. This house is a log cabin, and even the logs here in the bathroom are logs cut like giant Lincoln logs, perfectly designed to fit together. And yet, despite that here you sit, next to a regular bathtub, with a regular sink and toilet right there. Sure this is one of the more under-equipped bathrooms you’ve ever been in. But it surprises you that in this time, with such limited common convenience, here you sit in a perfectly furnished bathroom. 

You remember that Celestia and Luna had such things over a thousand years ago, so you know you shouldn’t be so surprised at ponies in olden times having modern things even in a poor, makeshift log cabin. Then again, you’re a time traveling foalsitter; nothing should be able to surprise you.

Lost in your thoughts, you nearly make the mistake of letting the water run over. Realizing your mistake you quickly turn the water off. Now that the bath is ready you step back into the main room of the house. Another thing you are not used to is the number of ponies still present. In most of your jobs, you and the occasional parent home from work are the only ones present besides the foal. But now, the foal of the week, her two older brothers, mother, father, aunt applesauce, and one of the cousins, were all present. Having the extra help is nice for you, but the reason you are here in the first place is because they don’t have enough help to go around as it is.

Your job here is the same as always, to watch the foals, and her brothers aren’t exactly responsible adults yet either. This is by far the noisiest job you’ve ever had, but it’s also a very pleasant experience for you, though tiring. 

With Ma and Pa Apple out collecting seeds, Aunt Applesauce is the one who greets you, “Well sitter, ya got that bath ready yet?”

You nod that you do, and get ready to do the hardest part of this job, “Bath time…”

You freeze. What in Equestria are you supposed to say? You can’t call out, “Granny” she’s just a little foal after all. It would just sound weird. But you’re not sure that yelling, “Smith” will be much better. Yelling Miss Apple… well for one that could apply to several ponies and also didn’t sound very good.

Aunt Applesauce is starting to wonder if you’ve somehow gotten stuck. You’ve just been standing there for over a minute with your mouth wide open and no sound coming out. “Er you okay there sitter? Ya stuck er somethin.”

You start to assure her your fine, but think for a second before admitting, “Kinda’. What am I even supposed to call her?”

Aunt Applesauce looks at you like you’re crazy, “Depends, is it time for Apple rose’s bath, or Granny-Smith’s?” The way she says Granny-Smith makes it sound like a compound word, like saying cow-girl, you just say it “cowgirl”.

A great revelation comes over you, “Ohh! Granny-Smith, like the apple!”

Aunt Applesauce now knows for sure that you’re crazy, or at least a few apples short of a tree. “Well uh, as you would say, duh. What’d ya think her name stood for?”

You’re not sure if it count’s as breaking the timetravler rule not to tell ponies about the future by mentioning that you associate “Granny” as being old. On the one hoof, “Granny” seems to imply age; but on the other, she is the youngest one here now.

You decide you’ve already made a fool of yourself and that the bath is getting cold. You call out for the young one, “Granny-Smith, it’s bath time!” It actually sounds completely normal said like one word. Unfortunately, despite being a relief for you, Granny-Smith does not appear.

Aunt Applesauce still thinks you’re crazy, but helps you, “I can’t finish this last piece of yummy pie! Such a shame an all. It’s made from the same kind of delicious apples that one of my two favorite nieces is named after. I’ll just set it right here.”

A moment later two little heads poke in the front doorway. One has soft pink hair, meaning Apple Rose, and the other is the one you’re looking for. It isn’t even a moment latter that the two rush in and devour the pie piece complete with cute little, “Om nom nom” sounds and everything.

You pick up Granny-Smith and head into the bathroom. She realizes that she’s been tricked, and begins struggling to escape. You place her in the tub, and admitting defeat, she crosses her forelegs. You get out the apple gel shampoo that you are contractually obligated to use on anypony even remotely related to the Apple Family, and begin lathering it into her mane.

Despite all the protesting earlier, she likes the shampoo itself and quickly relaxes in the bath. Her hair always had a white sheen to it, but washing it now you can really see and appreciate the little golden sheen that it had in her youth. Thank goodness that she didn’t yet have her hair braided like she would once she got old enough to bathe herself, you’re not sure you would have been able to wash that.

After her mane is significantly lathered, you scoop up a handful of water and pour over her mane. Strangely she likes this part a lot, so you rinse more than necessary. You now ask her to lift her tail, which upon her compliance; you see that it is very dirty. Considering you knew she spent all day playing with Apple Rose outside, you would have been really surprised if her tail wasn’t dirty.

You begin working the apple gel shampoo into her tail, careful to get all the dirt properly washed. This takes a full minute (her tail was really dirty) but you manage to get it washed. You start to rinse it, but she sits down and, more than just shaking like some ponies, she virtually does a jig. This gets water everywhere, but you don’t really care.

Normally you would give her some toys now, but you know she would much rather play with Apple Rose, so you unplug the tub. You get her out and dry her, which she enjoys, and laughs all the way to the end.

You take her out to the living room and set her next to her friend, “Now you two, listen carefully. Don’t get old. Even if you get older, never get old. Keep playing, keep believing, never get sour.” Judging by their expressions, “Sour” was the only word they got out of that, because Apple Rose sticks her tough out in disgust and Granny-Smith smiles at the thought of food.

Applesauce calls to you, “Sitter, food’s ready. You can wash Apple Rose latter. I’ll need to call the others in.”

You realize you’re never going to get this chance again, and you really want to do this, “Oh uh, can I call everypony in for dinner?”

Applesauce thinks nothing of it and agrees. You can barely contain yourself as you open the front door, see the rest of the family either talking or working or both in the yard, get the deepest breath you can, and in the most country accent you can muster, yell, “SOUPS ON, EVERPONY!”