Potty Training Tales

by SuperPinkBrony12

Granny Knows Best (Filthy Rich)

Author's Note:

Tags: [Slice of Life]
Characters: [Filthy Rich] [Granny Smith] [Stinkin’ Rich]
Written By: SuperPinkBrony12

From an early age, Filthy Rich had learned that he owed his family’s great fortune to the first family to have settled in Ponyville, the Apple family. More specifically, to the miraculous discovery by the now not so young Smith, which some ponies cheekily referred to as Granny: Zap Apple Jam. Because the jam sold so well year after year, the Riches were able to prosper and build a name for themselves with the first locally founded and owned business in the form of Barnyard Bargains. Even the name was meant to reflect just how the Riches owed to the Apples for their continued success and well off nature.

Filthy Rich also knew that he would one day take over running the store from his grandfather, Stinkin’ Rich. And the prospect delighted him to no end! He loved to spend his days by his grandfather’s side, watching as Stinkin’ Rich tended to the store and chatted with all the local customers who came in. How Stinkin’ Rich made it a habit to learn the names of everypony and know them by heart, treating them not unlike close friends or even family members. Stinkin’ always made sure to tell his grandson that this was how the Riches stayed humble. How they remembered their roots so they would never forget and become swept up by their fame.

But even Stinkin’ Rich couldn’t do everything, even if young Filthy thought his grandpappy was a superhero who was bigger than life. Stinkin’ Rich was a pony like everypony else, and he had his limits. He didn’t mind watching his grandson from time to time and helping to take care of him. But being entrusted with the young one’s care for prolonged periods of time could cause the eldest Rich to become exhausted and frazzled. So in those cases he would rely on others to help him, including the pony to whom he owed everything.

It was this close friendship with Granny Smith that would prove useful and advantageous when a crucial time in young Filthy’s life came about. It had started out like almost any other day. Stinkin’ Rich opened up Barnyard Bargains and made sure to inspect every part of the store to ensure customers would have the best possible experience. And like countless other days, his grandson, Filthy, was by his side. More specifically, clinging to his mane as his diaper crinkled.

Filthy was enjoying the fact that riding atop his grandpappy let him see things he couldn’t normally see.

Everything was so… big and exciting, and he loved it so much, he either didn’t know or didn’t care that his body was trying to tell him something! Soon an audible hissing sound could be heard as his bladder, having filled up from his morning bottle, emptied itself. Luckily, the store brand diapers he always wore did their job of holding up even as they clearly sagged a bit.

Stinkin’ Rich sighed and tried not to frown as he heard the hissing and saw Filthy’s diaper go from pristine white to a damp gray. “Alright, grandson, let’s get you cleaned up. Don’t need you gettin' a rash on me.” He remarked, and trotted to a back corner of the store to do the job.

---

Once Filthy was changed, Stinkin’ washed his hooves and then brought his grandson up to the front of the store. He stood behind the counter, just as a familiar green coated earth pony mare came strolling in with several jars of Zap Apple Jam.

“Heya, Stinkin’!” The mare greeted as she waved a hoof. “You stuck foalsitter’ the youngin’ again?”

Stinkin’ reluctantly nodded. “Unfortunately, yes, Granny Smith. Seeing’ as his folks are out of town again. Besides, it’s like he’s attached to me. Always begging’ me for piggy back rides and what not.”

Granny Smith laughed. “Reminds me of my son, Bright Mac. He’s gettin’ older, but sometimes he acts no different from the little one who used to keep me up at night ‘cause he kept gettin’ into trouble.”

Stinkin’ grinned. “Bright Mac’s a good kid. A real mama’s boy, but you’re raisin' him right. I hope Filthy turns out the same.”

Granny Smith was about to ask what Stinkin’ meant, but upon glancing at the young one beside him she seemed to grasp at what the problem was. The diaper was a dead giveaway. “How old you’d say Filthy was again?”

At that Stinkin’ hemmed and hawed, trying to think of a good answer. “Reckon he’s at least three, maybe the better half of three and a couple of months or so. He ain’t exactly a newborn anymore.”

“That’s what I thought,” Granny Smith commented with brow. “You know that when a foal gets to be his age, it’s past time to start teachin' him how to answer nature’s call like a big pony. Don’t tell me his folks are so cheap they won’t pay for one of them new fangled flush lavatories or whatever they’re callin’ em.”

Stinkin’ Rich reluctantly replied. “They ain’t makin’ much of an effort to train him on it. And he’s far too slippery for me to train him here at the store. Every time I’ve tried he just runs away and hides somewhere.”

“What about your farm? I hear he loves spendin’ his days there, when you ain’t busy runnin’ the store.” Granny inquired.

But Stinkin’ answered. “Ain’t found the time to try and train him there. Besides, I ain’t exactly gotten around to installin’ a flush lavatory. Those things ain’t cheap, ya know. Gotta have imported from Canterlot.”

Granny frowned upon hearing that statement. “Pah, ain’t no difference what ya train him with. Used to be that a foal his age would have a chamber pot to use day and night. And now ponies insist on doin’ their business in these special trenches with pipes and water and everythin’,” And she made up her mind on the spot. “You give him to me for a couple of days. I may not have a flush lavatory, but I ain’t gonna need one. It’s about time he stopped wearin’ diapers, ya put it off for too much longer and he’ll never wanna give ‘em up.”

“You think you can teach him?” Stinkin’ asked. “I’ll be happy to pay you any amount of bits you ask for as compensation.”

Granny Smith shook her head. “Don’t need to be gettin’ paid for this, especially not from you. But I reckon I’ll need to have a little talk with his folks about child raisin’ when they get back,” She snorted. “I’m raisin' my son right. Ain’t no reason why ponies with more bits to their name can’t do better.”

---

So it was that Granny Smith took up the matter of potty training Filthy Rich. She brought him to Sweet Apple Acres, and was quick to strip him of his diaper. “‘Round these here parts we don’t bother with diapers once a foal gets to be your age,” She told Fithy in no uncertain terms. “‘Course, it ain’t like you can just ‘round with nothin’ on and go wherever ya want. We may live on a farm, but we’re civilized ponies. And civilized ponies have acceptable ways of answerin’ nature’s call.”

Filthy Rich blinked as he looked at his now bare bottom. “Wha ya mean, Granny?”

“We Apples believe in a simple process of learnin’.” Granny Smith explained. “It’s the way that was taught to us by our earth pony forefathers. Ya learn how to feel the rhythm of nature as it flows through your body, so you’ll know when you have to go number one or number two. We call it ‘Bottomless Trainin’.”

“But if me can't wear diaper and me no go wherever I want, where I go pee pee or poo poo?” Filthy asked, puzzled.

Granny smiled as she took the child by the hoof. “I’ll show you. It’s really quite simple,” She promptly led the little colt through the orchard, stopping outside what appeared to be a wooden shack with a door that had a crescent moon carved onto it. “This is an outhouse. You’ve probably seen somethin’ like this at your grandpappy’s place.”

“Me go in there?” Filthy asked, eyeing the wooden shack with wonder and also confusion.

The earth pony mare nodded her head. “Yup. You just go in there, and clean yourself up with the paper when you’re done.”

“And then me flush?” Filthy wondered aloud.

“No need for that. The outhouse doesn't flush. It ain’t anything’ more than just a hole in the ground. No trench, no pipes, no water.” Granny Smith explained as she led the little colt inside.

Sure enough, Filthy saw nothing more than a pit that was very dark and very smelly. He didn’t really like the look of it, especially considering how big it was compared to him. It was unfamiliar and looked awkward to use.

“So as long as you’re in my care, you’re gonna come here whenever you have to do anything,” Granny Smith instructed the little colt. “You’ll know when it’s time to go when your body will start givin' you signals. Like for example, you’ll start to feel all tingly inside or you’ll feel your tummy start to rumble even though you ain’t really hungry.”

“Like right now?” Filthy asked as he not so secretly put a hoof to his stomach.

“Yes, like right now! So let’s get you into position! Don’t worry, I won’t let anythin’ bad happen to ya.” Granny declared as she helped correct the colt’s movements, helping him to stand over the pit so that his back end was raised over the hole.

Standing around and waiting was definitely not a pleasant experience for Filthy Rich. And he was glad when Granny Smith told him he was all done and could move around again. He actually found it kind of funny that “paper” really just amounted to old newspapers, and they too were tossed into the pit.

“Now, when the pit gets too full,” Granny Smith explained. “We empty it out. Helps fertilize the soil so crops grow.”

“Then why you no do it naturally?” Filthy pondered. It seemed logical to cut the middle stallion and deliver the fertilizer right where it was going to end up anyway.

Granny only replied with a frown. “‘Cause you can’t exactly do that in public. Ponies don’t like it when you do that. That’s the whole reason they invented those con fangled modern flush lavatories in the first place. Seems like a waste of bits to me, but I guess some ponies just don’t like doin’ things the way nature intended.”

---

Thanks to Granny Smith’s teachings, Filthy Rich was able to master both bottomless training and outhouse usage by the end of his time in her care. Training with the flush lavatory was a step up that took the colt quite a while to figure out, but eventually he discovered that it really wasn’t all that different from using an outhouse. The only difference was that the flush was how the lavatory emptied itself.

The years went by, but Filthy never forgot just how much he owed Granny Smith for having helped him learn how ponies were meant to answer the call of nature. Of course, the methods by which ponies did so did change over the years. Within Filthy’s lifetime he not only saw flush lavatories enter into greater widespread use (although Granny Smith refused to have one installed at Sweet Apple Acres, insistent that the outhouse worked just fine), but also the creation of toilets.

Due to their appearance, many ponies said that they resemble a throne. Filthy found that kind of odd since they were really just a bowl with a curved, fully rounded seat (some of them had a lid for covering the inside of the bowl, and a tank which had a handle instead of a pedal to trigger a flush). He still had one installed since it was considered the proper way for ponies to do their business, even though a part of him was saddened to see the old flush models (as they were still called) fade away.

Still, as a way of paying back Granny Smith for her services after she had been denied any sort of compensation from his parents, Filthy decided to have a modern throne toilet installed within Sweet Apple Acres proper. It didn’t replace the outhouse like he initially hoped to do, since Granny Smith was insistent that the outhouse would be removed “Over my dead body”, so the plumbing fixture was instead moved inside. More specifically to the farmhouse. And even Granny Smith had to admit that the toilet was a suitable way to take care of one’s business, whenever it worked properly anyway.