Chapter Three: A Breakfast to Forget
My eyes were now open, and taking my first steps of the day, an enormous yawn escaped as my muscles were relieved from a stretch. As usual, I had to go to a place of learning with other budding minds. Which means it’s the first day of school with my best friend knowing my secret. Ice Whistle is a supportive type of friend. He will question my decisions – my situation – Luna Bay.
The school building being in sight from here and not wanting to face the trial ahead, a sigh released. Glistening ice crystals were surrounded by a clear fluid that dripped down the windowpane, indicating the sun had been melting it. Even in a freezing environment, the winter sun’s rays can be surprisingly strong and comforting. The strange sensation of the chilly air and the heat rays mixing fought for a position on my face—a truly graceful situation.
There’s no more time for this. I shut the window and cantered to the bathroom for a hot shower.
“DARN YOU HAZELLLLL!”
While showering, I picked up my teacher's voice, Miss Scarlet Petals. Though, it might be a product of my imagination. Whatever. Ignoring the possible mental interruption, I focused on sudsing my green and yellow hair, wincing as an ounce of foam stung my eye. “Ah! Towel! Towel!” And as my foreleg reached for the usual spot... “I forgot the towel!”
After that fiasco, a recurrence of last night’s scene played out. At a dinner table, a family of three sat in their habitual spots. Instead of only pancakes, there was bacon and scrambled eggs, and for the beverage, orange juice.
“So, Thorn,” Dad started with a question. “How are those hayburgers holding up?”
“Pretty well.” Of course, I’m fibbing.
“Nature Thorn, don’t feed your father’s gluttonous pride.” She’s right. At times, Dad could get full of himself. I’d have to be more careful. “As for you, Forest Seed, that recipe book you’re so enthusiastic about might get tossed in the trash heap if you persist with these hayburgers.”
Dad inhaled a dramatic breath and laid his forelegs across the table. “No! Misty Fleurs, I’ll never praise those hayburgers again.” Fixing his posture, he put his right hoof on the left side of his chest, gesturing a pledge.
“You promise?”
“I promise! Anything but the recipe book from Sugarcube Corner! We haven’t even gotten through a quarter of it…”
“Okay, okay, but you’ll have to help me find and prepare proper dinners from now on.”
“You, honey, got yourself a deal.”
Mom ousted a haughty breath. “Hmph, you won’t last a month.”
Appalled, Dad gasped and debated. “Are you challenging me?”
Like a film, the camera homed in on Mom’s face, and two thick horizontal lines gradually closed in on her stern, narrowed eyes. “Yes. I am.”
Ruining the action scene, I interrupted. “If you don’t chew more, your pancakes will be ruined.”
Dad eyed his pancakes after my brief remark. “Oh no, my pancakes absorbed the maple syrup entirely!”
Mom tilted the flapjack to see if any syrup would drip off. “How unfortunate, mine too.”
Having finished my syrupy pancakes, a burp escaped. “Excuse me.” Flapjacks are in their prime when the syrup stays on top. Everypony can agree with that.
After considering the situation, my parents could only do one thing. “Pfft, Hahaha!” They guffawed. Mom and Dad were such goofballs. I can’t even recall a moment when they had to be serious. They found the best in any situation and laughed it off together. It was one of their best qualities, even if it wasn't obvious. They’re just like the maple syrup and the pancakes they were eating. They would take the syrup and come to terms with it.
“Hey, Mom, Dad?”
“Yes?” they reacted in unison.
“How did the both of you meet?” I asked and began glugging down a glass of refreshing orange juice, receiving my fill of vitamin C.
“Oh, dearie me,” Mom said, trying to hide her flaring red cheeks in content embarrassment.
“I’m so glad you asked Thorn, but don’t expect some super elaborate romance story… It was quite the simple encounter,” Dad specified.
“Trust me, I wasn’t.”
“Years ago…”
Near Galloping Gorge, it was a typical workday cutting down some trees in the forest, hoping to collect some wood for Luna Bay. I thoroughly inspected every tree I brought down for critter nests or burrows.
“Timber!” I yelled as the tree tipped over and came crashing down. That was when I overheard ponies arguing in the distance. I investigated and found two figures walking along the nearby train tracks. It was your mother and her father.
—“My father and I got lost while hiking and followed the train tracks, hoping for a ride back to Vanhoover.”
No interruptions, honey.
—“Sorry.”
After finishing work, I asked them this while trotting over, “I’m finished with my task. Wood you like a lift? I’d be happy to help.” My gloriously ingenious joke amused Misty Fleurs, causing her to giggle, most likely after noticing the cut-down wood logs wrapped up in my carriage.
—“Ugh, Mom!”
—“What? Is it not understandable from my perspective? Who’d expect somepony to actually make that joke under such circumstances? It was so awkward for my father. The look on his face was priceless! Oh, Thorn, I wish you could’ve seen it.”
You had to be kidding me. “I can’t believe you started liking Dad over a sappy joke.”
Attempting to hold back a smile, Mom responded. “Is this a bad time to say you woodn’t believe it? Pfft—”
“No—I mean yes.”
Dad had a cartoonish spit-take with his orange juice. Never thought I’d see that. And, of course, again, they laughed like maniacs together. Dad held his gut with both front legs and kept hitting his back against the chair. I hoped for him to fall backward. “Ha! Good one, honey bug! Haha!”
“Hahaha, thank you, haha!” Mom laughed hysterically as she started banging her hoof on the table.
Yup, they deserved each other. You horrible, filthy comedians, please get off the stage. If I had some fresh and or rotten tomatoes, I would throw them. Lucky you, fortune seems to be on your side today.
“Ugh…” My cringing body couldn’t handle that unexpected blow to the gut. My stomach twisted in agony, and like my dad, I leaned back in my chair. Except, I went back so far that I fell backward and lay sprawled out on the plank floor, staring at the similarly made ceiling. Even here, escaping the thoughts of wood seemed impossible—darn wooden cottage.
Dad’s laughter calmed down a tad, and he wiped away a tear. “Alright, Thorn, we’ll stop. How about we call this even? You know, a spruce?”
“Stop it, Forest Seed! Haha!” Mom lost control and kept her face down on the table, cackling.
I died. That was the killing blow. We set the bar for jokes in this household far too low, and I’m the shortest one here. If I’m in a book, and this conversation is on a page, please, dear reader, burn it. Burn it with fire.
“Wait, Misty Fleurs, did you pick up what Thorn said earlier?”
Mom wiped tears. “Uh… I can’t recall anything standing out. What did he say?”
Dad, struggling to hold back his laughter, stood on his hind legs and looked straight into Mom’s eyes. “The joke I made, he called it a sappy one!”
Mom gasped, her lips forming an o, bringing a hoof to her cheek. “Oh, dearie me, you’re right! Guess the apple doesn’t fall too far from the tree!”
“HAHAhaaa!” They continued guffawing. Maybe they are maniacs. Even though their son’s dead body was lying on the cold floor next to them, they resumed cackling and losing their breaths at poorly made jokes. But despite everything, this is still our family—a family inept in the art of comedy. In a competition to figure out the funniest household in Luna Bay, we would find ourselves at the very bottom of the list. So, without a doubt, I can say this is a breakfast to forget.
And please, send help.
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Wow, I absolutely love your writing style, and I'm surprised you don't have anyone else commenting on this story. I love the descriptions, characters, jokes, and general SoL that you have here. Looking forward to more. You've got a new fan.
11866390
Happy to hear! I'm glad you don't find my writing style too rough. I'm sure it will be here and there in the future, but I'll try to keep it tame and descriptive. I could probably calm down on the colors, too.
Anyway, thanks for the first comment!
11866426
I think all authors need some encouragement once in awhile, so I hope these words find you well. I know how arduous the writing process is, and the challenge of working in isolation. And I also know how far encouragement can go. Such an easy thing to give, yet so precious to receive. As for me, I'll be watching your career with great interest.