You wake up in the morning and find yourself late for work. Not the first time and the cakes don't really mind a few minutes but in your addled and sleep deprived mind, you leap out and dart around the house to get ready. Sprinting past the kitchen, Moonie calls out.
"Where are you going?"
"Work," you shout back as you open the door.
"On a Sunday?"
You pause in the doorway, half in and half out, for your brain to collect itself.
"Oh yeah, day off," you state as you slam the door with a grin.
You saunter on into the kitchen to find Moonie looking up from you as she drinks straight from the glass of milk.
"I've told you not to do that."
"What?"
Her upper lip has the milk moustache thing going on and you find yourself in a struggle over whether to be the stern father or the immature child.
"Grab a cup and if I catch you doing that again all hell will break loose. You got it?"
"Yes sir," she says with a huff from under her breath.
She probably thought she was discreet but your ears are sharper than that. You haven't hit the old man years yet where you'll need some kind of horn sticking out your ear like a gramophone to hear everything.
"You know... Milk is the fastest liquid to those outside the farming process."
She raises an eye brow at you.
"Really?"
"Yeah, it's pasteurised before you even see it."
Her face turns sour and scrunches up slowly as it sinks in.
"What was that?"
"A joke," you reply defensively.
"That wasn't funny," she replies in a tone of disgust.
"It kinda was."
With a shrug, you leave the room and go find something else to do.
You're idly walking around the house, really just unsure what to do with yourself so you peek into Moonie's room to see what she's up to. She's playing with her toys. From the looks of things, it's Sir Bearington up against a bunch of little soldiers.
"Pray now little warriors for your end has come. I contain within my soft and plushy arms, the power to destroy the world," she says in a poor attempt at a maniacal man's voice before cackling.
"You really enjoy the whole end of the world thing, don't you?"
"Hm? Well... yeah, it's pretty climactic. Why?"
"No reason, just pointing it out. You just keep playing like there's no tomorrow, alright?"
She rolls her eyes and ignores your presence by going back to her own little world. With a sigh of boredom, you leave the room in search for something else to do. It takes a few minutes before you realise there's literally nothing to do. You got all the chores done yesterday, you don't need to even make lunch yet and Twilight is off at Canterlot so you can't get any new books. So instead, you return to Moonie's room.
"And Sir Bearington, who saved the day, gets the damsel in distress," she narrates as voodoo doll and Sir Bearington are made to kiss with magic.
You grab her attention with a fake sniffle.
"Sorry, weddings always make me cry," you tell her as you wipe away an invisible tear, "It's not just me, even the cakes are in tiers."
Your joke is met with the immediate lobbing of the voodoo doll at you so you quickly close the door and wait for the thump before opening it back up to poke a tongue at the filly.
Eventually you find a book you only got halfway with. And for good reason. It's not really your kind of thing. Just some navy seal who goes back to the age of Vikings to stop some bad guy but ends up in some steamy romance.
"What you reading?"
"Hm, what?"
"Book. What's it about?"
"Uh... Glue."
"Glue?"
Her eyes widen as she notices your mouth stretch into a devilish toothy grin.
"Yeah, it's a great read. I can't put it down."
Using her magic in a fit of rage, she grabs the nearby couch pillow and starts swinging it at you over and over again. There's no real power to it and it's only a pillow so you find yourself giggling more than anything at each strike. Each laugh only seams to spur Moonie on as she tries to hit harder and faster, even aiming for your head.
"What is this? Some kind of cruel and unusual punishment? Fine! You win, I'll use a cup from now on just stop."
"I think they're funny but alright," you say as you rise from your seat, "Well, I'm hungry. Do you want anything?"
Moonie looks up at you in thought, then as deadpan as she can speaks.
"Hi hungry, I'm Moonie," she replies as the corners of her mouth flick upwards as she tries to fight off her laughter.
"Ah-ha! I told you they were funny!"
You grab the pillow Moonie was using a moment ago and proceed to lovingly smother her with it as she lets out muffled but roar of a laugh. Then the two of you go eat some lunch before playing with Moonie's toys.