Criminal Code N4P-T1M3
A short while ago, and not a long time at all, in a town not far from Canterlot, certainly not far away, there lived a small family of ponies. The papa was a guard in the small town, making sure that they were kept safe from the occasional shoplifter and even more occasional world-ending threat. The mama stayed at home and took care of all the various household duties, and made sure that their little son was healthy and happy, along with making sure she didn’t step in the lava that occasionally covered their floor. Said little foal, their three year old son, spent his days playing with his toys, eating both sweets and (blech) healthy veggies, and being snuggled by his two loving parents.
It was a happy life, and an idyllic one, but there were occasional problems...such as…
“NO! NONONO!!! I WON’T NO!” came a scream from the small house one Saturday afternoon, as the foal stamped his little hoof, glaring up at his Mama from the presumed safety of his little ramshackle fort of sleeping mats, blocks, and blankets, and guarded by his toy soldiers. “I DON’T WANNA!!!”
“Sweetie, please...you need to take your nap.” Mama cajoled and explained, keeping her voice calm and measured like the books said to do. Never raise your voice, never get angry, but always repeat and be reasonable. “You’re all cranky and…”
“NO! I NOT CRANKIES!!! I WANNA PLAY! NO NAPS! NO NAP!!!” the cranky colt cut in crankily, stamping his little hooves as his mama started to frown. It had been like this for a week now, or at least since Monday. The little one had reached that stage where Naps were the ENEMY! And like any proper young fighter, he was going to defeat the enemy with all the energy and effort he could muster!
And thus, as it always did, the situation escalated, the little one stamping his hooves some more as his voice raised up, reaching a fever pitch as Mama’s frown deepened even more, the mare sighing and sitting down right outside the entrance to her son’s fortress.
“I NO WANNA NAPPY!” her son yelled, pulling back inside as he did so, knowing that Mommy couldn’t get in. His fort was so small, and she was just too big. And Mommy would never destroy the fort he had worked so hard to create.
Mama just sighed, reaching up and dragging a hoof down her face. The books never covered how to deal with a colt who was so stubborn about not taking his nap. In fact, most of them just said if a foal was cranky, have them take a nap. They just neglected to tell her how to get her foal outside of his little fort and into his bed to take said nap.
“Sweetie...You need to come out and take your nap so you can grow up right and be big and strong like Daddy.” she said, holding out her hooves like she wanted a hug. “Why don’t you come and give Mommy a hug and we can go to your room and I’ll read you a story…”
“NO! NO NAP! NO!” came the screamed response to Mama’s attempt at placation, and the mare sighed again. Another day, another naptime tantrum that looked to go on longer than the actual nap itself would go on for.
This time, however, there was a slight difference in the situation. Usually, mama was alone with her little “angel”, and so had to resort to a combination of pleading and promising to put an end to his naptime tantrums.
Today, however, Papa was there, sitting in a squashy comfortable armchair and reading the Saturday paper. And papa had finally had enough of the tantrums and yelling. Folding his paper and putting it aside, the stallion stood up to his full height, marching over with the disciplined gait of a guard.
The tantrum stopped very quickly then as papa leaned down and reached into the fort, grabbing his little son in those big strong hooves as he dragged him out of the safety of the blankets, taking care not to actually damage the structure. The little colt found himself carried back over to that self same chair and laid across his papa’s lap as the stallion sat back down.
Realizing the danger he was in, the toddler started squirming, but to no avail. Papa was just too strong.
As the first stinging smack landed on his upturned bottom, the colt heard his father begin lecturing. “When your mother tells you to go take a nap, young colt, you listen to her.” he scolded as his son yelped and began to cry.
Another spank fell, papa being very careful to moderate his prodigious strength as he punished his naughty son.
“Little colts most certainly do not yell at their mommies, or stamp their hooves at her just because she told them to take a nap.” the lecture continued as the little one cried more, sure his bottom was bright red!
The final swat landed, and the colt yelped one last time. His bottom hurt so much...surely it was going to sting for years and years until he was as big as papa!
“Now...go and hug your Mommy, and then go lay down and take your nap.” Papa ordered, and the little colt rushed to obey, giving his Mama’s leg a big hug before running up the stairs to his room.
Once he was gone, Mama fixed her stallion with a glare. “Was that really necessary? To spank him over refusing to take a nap?” she snipped, coming over to sit next to her husband.
“Yes. You already told me he’s been throwing these tantrums all week, best to nip it in the bud. Besides, it was my duty as a guard to spank him there.”
That last part confused the colt’s Mama very much. “How was it your duty as a guard?” she asked, and Papa smiled.
“It is my duty to respond to any crimes being committed…”
“And he was resisting a rest.”