//------------------------------//
// The Mysterious Break-Ins of Cheese Sandwich 
// Story: Tales of Two Sandwiches 
// by Sketcha-Holic 
//------------------------------//

Mozzarella sighed in relief upon seeing the sleepy eyes of little Tomato. She did not know how long she had sat in that rocking chair, swaying like a boat on ocean waves in order to calm the fussy foal. Even after having been given his tri-hourly dose of colostrum, he had still been cranky. But, at last, her efforts paid off, and it was time for him to be placed in his crib.

It was best that he drifted off to sleep there. Mozzarella didn't want her grasp being the only way he could fall asleep. 

She left the room once the baby was settled in. Shutting the door behind her, she was off to try to force a kooky toddler into his bed. Naturally, when she made it to said toddler's room, he wasn't there. 

Cheese was a clever colt; he always managed to pop up in some of the strangest places, with no clear way on how he got there. He somehow popped onto a chandelier at a friends house, with all the mares there having hastily scrambled together a stack in order to reach him. That old grandfather clock in their living room had no easy path for a colt of three to climb up; and yet, he somehow managed to do it. Cheese's grandparents often reported that he somehow climbed a tree in the park. And then there were the times that he somehow teleported into the shower while either she or Hay Burger were using it--always to ask for a cookie, despite the constant scarcity of cookies in the house. 

Naturally, he was the hide-and-seek champion. And Mozzarella was forced into one of her least favorite games, and she had to win it if she wanted Cheese to go to bed. Since Hay Burger was working late tonight, she was on her own. 

She stuck her nose behind the couch, huffing at the mere dust bunnies that resided there. "Oh, where, oh, where has that colt gone?" 

She pulled her muzzle out with a pop, and rubbed it as she looked up at the grandfather clock. Cheese wasn't there either, so she pressed her cheek on the floor in order to take a good look under the couch, and then switched to the other to look under the coffee table. Then after she peeled her cheek off the floor, she trotted into the kitchen for a good look at the top of the fridge, then through the various cupboards, and a stomach-tightening glance into the oven. No colt in any of those places. 

Perhaps I should check the bathroom, she thought. 

However, on her way to the bathroom, a fit of giggles and squeaks made their way out of Tomato's nursery. A quizzical look crossed her face, and she had sworn that she made sure the baby was sleepy. Unless...

She opened the door, and sure enough, there was Cheese, using the crib as a trampoline, and dragging his little brother into his bouncy dance. Not that the younger Sandwich minded; in fact, Tomato's squeal was absolutely devoid of any of his earlier irritability. 

Cheese's big eyes soon spotted his mother. "Hi, Mama! Tommy was awake!"

"Weeee!" Tomato exclaimed.

Mozzarella's eye twitched, and several curls sprang out of her neatly done mane. 



 

The next day, after laying Tomato down for a nap, she made sure to lock the door. While she had told her older son how babies needed to take frequent naps to grow, it was hard to explain to him why Tomato wasn't fully asleep when he was put in his crib. After all, Cheese's toddler brain reasoned that if Tomato was in any way awake, having his eyes open even a tiny bit, it was okay to play with him. It was all black and white to the colt, and it didn't help that Tomato was always happy to see his big brother. 

A simple lock should be enough to keep Cheese away while Tomato slept. She strode to the kitchen, glancing at the three-year-old coloring in a coloring book, and heading to the kitchen table in order to keep him in sight. 

As she sat and read the newspaper, she thought about how she needed to take a trip to the store and get groceries. Perhaps later, when Tomato was awake, she'd drop him and Cheese off at her parents' house, then pick them up when she was done shopping. She didn't want to bring Cheese to the store; the moment he'd see candy, he'd cry, beg, and scream for her to get it, as little foals were wont to do. And it would just bring judgmental glares in their direction, wondering why she didn't control her child. 

She thought of the last time that happened and snorted. Well, excuse me for not wanting to spoil my son, she thought. It's not like I'm my sister, who would have spoiled him rotten...

She looked up, and saw that the spot that Cheese had occupied was now vacant. "Oh, no, where'd he go?" 

She hopped out of her seat, and immediately went to the colt's room. When seeing that he wasn't there, she checked the bathroom. The bathroom was followed by the broom closet, under the couch, and then her bedroom. Marching around the house, she thought about how much it irritated her when Cheese pulled the hide-and-seek stunt. She even wondered if he had went outside, even though she didn't hear the door open at all. 

In passing the nursery on her way to the front door, she froze upon hearing the laughter of two small colts. Backing up a bit, she jiggled the handle, which refused to turn thanks to the lock. Blinking, she swept into the kitchen to nab the key before returning to the door. 

Sure enough, the opened door revealed that a little game of chase was going on, with Cheese scurrying around the floor in a playful attempt to escape the awkward gallop of baby Tomato. The tiny colt stumbled and fell when startled by his mother opening the door, which prompted immediate attention from his big brother. 

After helping Tomato up, Cheese looked up at Mozzarella. "Hi, Mama! Tommy was awake!"

Mozzarella grinded her teeth for a moment before swallowing and taking a breath. "Yes... I know, Cheese. But, he was tired, and I was trying to put him to sleep."

Cheese tilted his head. "Why?"

"He needs lots of sleep to be healthy and grow into a proud, strong stallion." Mozzarella rubbed her temple, wishing for a better way to put it. "And I'm trying to get him to learn how to fall asleep on his own."

Cheese glanced at the cooing Tomato, who was now busy sucking his hoof. "But he's awake."

"And he was supposed to go to sleep! It's his nap time!" She picked up Tomato and pointed at the door. "Get back to coloring, Cheese. You're not supposed to play with him when he's supposed to be having his nap."

Cheese unleashed the puppy-dog eyes and pouted. "But, Mama, I wanna play with him!"

"You know I don't fall for the puppy-dog eyes easily."

Cheese whimpered, and cried, "Lemme play with him!"

"No. Let him sleep." Before Cheese could let out that first scream, she added, "You try that stunt, you won't go to Grandma's."

Cheese blinked. "Gramma's?"

Mozzarella sighed. "Yes. I was thinking about taking you and Tomato once he had his nap, but since you won't let him, I suppose I won't take you there after all."

"No! No! I want Gramma!"

"Then will you let Tomato have his nap?"

Cheese pursed his lips before nodding. 

"Good, now back to the living room."

Cheese galloped out of the nursery, prompting Tomato to reach out for him with his little hooves. Bouncing the whimpering foal, Mozzarella grabbed a pacifier from a nearby dresser and popped it into his mouth. "Now, now, there's no need to fuss. Your brother's not going anywhere--it's not like he's going to leave Manehattan anytime soon. I'm expecting that day to come when he's all grown up."

She turned to the crib and placed him in. Straightening back to her full height, she looked at the door, followed by looking everywhere else in the room. "Just how did he get in here, anyway? The door was locked."





Door locked, shutters locked, lights low, and tired baby in the crib. She held the key on a necklace, in case there was an emergency. And she was keeping a close eye on her mischievous toddler, making sure he didn't wander away from his coloring book or building blocks. So far, Cheese was content in his activity, drawing chickens on the pages (Mozzarella grew irritated that he wasn't coloring within the lines). 

Then, she made the mistake of deciding it was bath time. 

She had tried to sneak up on him with the towel, but the moment Cheese noticed, he sped off, knowing the danger of the towel. She gave chase, and they bounded through the house until she finally cornered him in his room and nabbed him. She resisted his squirming as she carried him to the bathroom, and had locked the door behind her once they were inside. 

She started up the water, and put her hoof under the running water to make sure it was lukewarm. "Now, Cheese, as much as you like running around in filth, there comes a point where it becomes unhealthy. I want clean little boys, and if Tomato can hold still in his bath, I'm certain you can t--" She turned around to the toilet where Cheese had once sat, and discovered he was gone. "Where'd he go?"

That was a stupid question; she knew exactly where he went. 

Unlocking the door of the nursery, it turned out she was right. Cheese had somehow arranged a birthday party for Tomato (even though Tomato was just two and a half months old), having invited all his stuffed animals to partake in some 'cake'--which were very clearly made out of mud. Tomato was messily eating the stuff, while Cheese was singing "Happy Birthday" to him. 

Mozzarella had so many questions. Namely why he brought mud into the house when she clearly didn't approve, where he even got the mud, how did he get it so fast... scratch that, how did he break out of the locked bathroom, then out and back into the locked house, and into Tomato's locked nursery all under a minute. Her mind couldn't come up with an explanation, even as she stared at her eldest son. 

She threw her hooves up. "How?!"





Early the next morning, while both boys were still in bed, their mother was going off on a spiel to her husband. 

"...and that's why Cheese drives me nuts!" Mozzarella pulled at her red mane, leaning on the kitchen table. "Believe me, Hay Burger, those mishaps with your co-workers are nothing compared to what that toddler puts me through!"

Hay Burger sat across from her, reading the newspaper, and only pausing to take bites of his oatmeal in front of him. "That's nice."

Mozzarella scowled at him. "You're not listening, are you?"

Hay lowered the newspaper just so he could show her a raised eyebrow. "Are you sure you're not just exaggerating normal toddler behavior? It's not like he's any worse than my nephew--that little monster always ruined my perfectly organized bookshelves."

Mozzarella slammed her hooves on the table. "Teleporting into places he shouldn't be--and he's not a unicorn, mind you--is not normal toddler behavior! Something's up with Cheese, and I've got to figure out how to get it under control. After all, if the rest of the neighborhood finds out that our son is... is... a freak, they won't ever leave us alone about it! And you know how some ponies like to get dirt on me." 

Hay ate a little more of his oatmeal, and hid his face behind the newspaper. "Big whoop. You're a big girl, you can handle it."

Mozzarella scratched at the table, a frustrated grunt seeping out of her. "Gee, thanks for being a sensitive and caring husband. None of the parenting books has anything on what to do when earth pony toddlers exhibit behaviors like that. Not even his grandmother being a unicorn can explain it--genetics don't work that way!"

Hay raised his head and lowered the newspaper a little, his eyes closed and nose upturned in a haughty manner. "Well, that's too bad. The universe can't bend to your whim, and you'll have to deal with this wild card." He turned back to continue to read his newspaper. "That's something you have to acc--YIKES!"

Something had appeared before him, and Hay Burger tumbled backward onto the floor--chair, newspaper, and all--hitting his head in the process. He clutched his head, and stared up at the culprit in shock. 

Mozzarella would have been smug if the culprit that had suddenly appeared before him had been Cheese, just like she described; however, instead, it was Tomato, who had decided that his father's oatmeal would make a great snack. She blinked, having sworn that he had still been in his crib when she last checked, and that the nursery door had been locked. She processed the meaning of this as she stared at her younger son, who was contently chewing on the warm, mushy cereal. 

She leaned on the table and rubbed her temples, moaning, "Not you too..."