//------------------------------// // (Almost) Forgotten Memories // Story: Icing On The Cake // by MinnesotaWriter //------------------------------// I got home and sighed. I knew this would be a harder issue to deal with than our relationship had ever dealt with before. Plopping down onto my bed, I wondered if our relationship was strong enough to be put up to the test. "Of course we're strong enough. We've been together for almost a year now. We've both changed, and we're perfect for each other." I tried convincing myself. I didn't know how long I could deceive myself, much less the rest of the world... "Cup, it's dinner time! Please come downstairs!" My mother called. "Coming mother!" I yelled back. I quickly fixed my hair up, and then I went down to dinner. My sister, my dad and my mom were already downstairs. My mom had cooked noodles. Again. She never cooked anything else. Sometimes I wondered if she ever wanted anything else to eat. "Mother, thank you kindly for these noodles and white sauce." My sister robotically said. "Yes dear, thank you." My father replied, as if scripted. "Thanks mom! I should show you a few different recipes sometime." I smiled, trying to be really nice and respectful about it. After all, I was the only one in the family who used the kitchen for more than the same three meals each day. "Would YOU like to cook dinner?" She glared at me. Everything was offensive to her. "I could if you wanted me too!" I really wanted to help. "Fine," she said snobbily, "you can cook dinner every night. Make sure you always follow the recipes exactly. I don't even like cooking, anyways." "Mom, you know I don't ever follow a recipe..." "Why don't you? Exact measurements are the way to go." "Because sometimes, exact measurements aren't... Perfect." My entire family gasped. I should have expected this, growing up in a family of mathematicians. Everything for them had to precise and exact. It was kind of annoying. I said nothing more on the topic. I didn't want to get them scared or anything. I didn't really communicate with them very much beyond the dinner table. They never were very talkative. They always were finding new calculators, or they were making up problems for each other... I was always the odd one out in my family. And not only was their sense of crazy and their artistic sense hindered, their emotional sense almost never existed. My father was a black stallion I with silvery highlighted stick-straight hair, my mother, a white mare with bluish- silver hair. My older sister was almost a copy of each of them. Everyone in my extended family too was a deep grey or almost blackish (or some other neutral color), with rather straight hair. I wasn't normal, I was bright blue with fluorescent pink curly hair/bush. Despite being a little pop of color in a grayscale family, I never really got into their interests. I hated math. When they taught me science, it wasn't nearly as bad, I even found some of the subjects interesting. But when they taught me math, it was the worst. My parents tried to teach it to me at a young age. They said it would be really fun. It was fun for them to teach it. Not fun for me. They taught me addition and subtraction, multiplication and then division. And finally, fractions. That's about as far as I got until I got frustrated. At least fractions helped me with my cooking. I always could figure out exactly how much I needed, even though I rarely ever used the exact measurements anyways. After fractions, however, they did teach me how to use algebra and beyond. I wasn't terrible at it, I just never could find the enjoyment in something so utterly concrete. I got up to my room. I kept it a fun bright red color, with a little dab or orange. I had about a billion pictures on my walls, pictures of mainly my friends and I. Pictures of Belle and I as filles; painting a picture, making cookies (mine actually looked edible), playing dress up, outside on a playground, the list went on. To the right of that, I had a little collection of pictures with Fanny Pack, Carrot Cake and I. To my surprise, there were more pictures of Carrot Cake and I than Fanny Pack. I guess he was the one taking the pictures. He always seemed like a photographer. A lot of our pictures looked posed, but they were produced on old black and white film. I guess that's what Fanny Pack loved best, was photography. It was kind of cute, like, small person cute. There were a few pictures of us three together. We were all laughing, it looks like, and Fanny Pack was covered in cake I guess... ••••• "Guys, what should we do today?" I slumped down onto our table. It was a cold winter day, and the three of us wanted nothing but to stay inside. The three of us, all without cutie marks, all thoughtfully thought of ideas to fill our day. We were little kids, unable to run around town to our heart's content because of a blizzard raging outside. I myself had been stuck in Iron Pancake House for a day and a half. It had been one of the worst blizzards in Equestria in at least a century. "Maybe we could..." Fanny Pack looked around. He sighed. "Do nothing." There wasn't much to do around a little bed and breakfast. At least there weren't many people. "We could..." Carrot Cake looked like he had an idea. "Bake a cake!" He looked particularly enthralled by this. All three of us looked at each other. Fanny Pack whispered, "But guys, I can't cook..." "Nonsense! Anyone can cook!" Carrot Cake dragged Fanny Pack back into his aunt and uncle's kitchen to start cooking. I followed quickly behind with a smile. "Excuse me?" Carrot Cake respectfully approached Waffle Iron, Fanny Pack's uncle. "What can I do for you today, Carrot?" He responded to him with a bright smile. Waffle iron was a kind colt! and even a kinder shopkeeper. Because it was a bed and breakfast, he sometimes let homeless people stay at his bed and breakfast overnight, giving them a warm place to stay. He also gave them a breakfast, and sometimes a. Lunch, so they could spend their food money on something else. Like getting their hooves back on the ground. "Do you mind if we baked a cake in your kitchens? We're absolutely bored. And folks have already eaten breakfast. PLLLEEEAAAASSSSEEEEE???" Carrot Cake smiled, trying oh so hard to convince Waffle Iron. Waffle Iron looked at his wife. She nodded, and he replied to him, "Sure, you just have to clean up any mess you make." "Thanks Waffle Iron!" I yelled from the back of the group, and the three of us went in. When we got into the kitchens, the world was open to us. I loved cooking, and making food for others. Carrot Cake agreed with me. Despite Fanny not sharing this hobby with us we still let him watch. Regardless, he would eventually become the owner of this restaurant, unless the Irons gave it to anyone else. But we were just fillies. We didn't know any of that yet. "So... Do any of you guys actually know HOW to make a cake?" Fanny was skeptical if this would actually work. Then again, Fanny wasn't the ones cooking. "Wait- you don't know the recipe for a cake by heart? I thought everyone could memorize it. It's not hard." Carrot was made for this. He turned to me. "Do you know the recipe?" I didn't know the recipe by heart, but this wasn't the first time I've made a cake. "Cakes aren't my forte, but sure, I kind of know it." Carrot was in charge of this whole production. He knew exactly what to get, and how much to put in. I helped him with a bit, but I did a lot of watching and observing. Fanny looked for the ingredients. After all, he knew the kitchens best, he had grown up around it. He just didn't know how to cook in them. A half an hour later, and a messy kitchen, it was in the cake pan, oven-ready. Just then, Waffle Iron walked in. He gave a big belly laugh. "You guys know you'll have to clean all of this up!" He looked around at the slightly trashed kitchen. Even Waffle Iron knew we would spend more time cleaning up that making the actual cake itself. Empty eggs littered the flor, spilled milk, a bit if mixed-up batter was strewn across roughly where the cake pan was, son flour on the floor, the list goes on and on. "How's your cake coming?" He asked, try to ignore the mess. "It's all done!" I perked up. "Look!" I pointed to our cake pan. Waffle Iron walked slowly towards the table we had our operation at. A few steps in and- He slipped. Slipped on flour. Trying to grasp the table for balance, he accidentally hit the cake pan. The cake didn't even go flying, it just went straight towards Fanny's face. It just ricocheted towards his face. It got everywhere else, but nobody seemed to notice, Fanny Pack started whining. "Of all the things that could happen... THIS happens to me!" Fanny smiled. "On the bright side, I get to eat some batter." He licked his face and slightly grimaced. "Ugh. This would NOT of made a good cake. Who's brilliant idea was it to put egg shells in there?" I was trying to hold back completely laughing out loud. It came out as a snicker, then I looked at Carrot, and his face showed the same thing. We both burst out laughing at each other. Cake Iron came out. "What in Equestria is going on--" she laughed, then grabbed a camera. "Hold it right there guys!" She took a picture of the three of us. And gave a copy to each one of us. We started cleaning up, talking quickly about the cake and how we almost made it, laughing a lot. "GUYS!" Carrot yelled at the top of his lungs, clearly extremely jovial. "What?" Both Fanny and I looked at him. "I got my cutie mark!" A wide smile was plastered onto his face. "I GOT MY CUTIE MARK!!!" He dropped his broom and danced around with Fanny and I. It was true: three little carrot cakes were plastered onto his hind. He could actually say he got his cutie mark now. All three of us were just as ecstatic as he was, it seemed. ••••• I plopped down onto my bed and smiled. I wish things could be like that again.