Adventures in Childcare with Eris (20/02)

2015/10/08 - Your dark queen

>You knew it was a bad idea to bring Eris to Canterlot for her birthday.
>But you'd relented, her puppy-dog eyes (she swore she didn't actually a real dog's) easily overpowering your willpower.
>Not that you'd been reluctant to go, it was just...
>Eris hadn't ever really been out of P0nyville.
>She was used to the small streets and familiar ponies, with the small-town atmosphere and everybody knowing everybody else.
>And, perhaps, you hadn't quite managed to figure out how to explain rules to her.
>She WAS the daughter of an Elder God of Chaos and Mischief, after all, so perhaps saying "don't wander off. I mean it!" hadn't actually been sufficient.
>Now, you were paying for your hubris. She was out of your sight, and you hadn't the foggiest where she'd gone.
>"DAAAAAAAAD!"
>You let your breath out in a relieved sigh. You still can't see her, but her yells are easily leading you.
>"DAAAAAD! LOOKIT! S'APPLES!"
>Finally breaking through the crowd, you find her standing in front of a terrified looking pony with a pear-shaped cutie mark.
>"S'NOT MISS BLOOM! M'ERIS. WHO'RE YOU?"
"Not every fruit stall is run by an Apple, Eris."
>"BUT SHE'S GOT FRUIT ON HER BUTT!"
>You turn to the stallpony, and run a hand through your hair.
"Really sorry, she's uh... new"
>The fruit pony smiles weakly at you, but her ears are still plastered to her skull, so you wrap an arm around Eris' shoulders, and pull her away.
>"BYE MISS NOT BLOOM"
"Eris, please, can we stop the yelling?"
>"I'M NOT YELLING. THIS IS MY VOICE NOW. ALL MY LIFE I HAVE WHISPERED AND NOW I AM FREE!"
>You'd swear she got this from her other father, but you were an arse when you were younger, too.
"Loud satyrs don't get to go visit the castle, though. It scares the guards!"
>She takes ahold of your arm, and scuttles up to sit on your shoulder.
>That's one you can DEFINITELY blame on Discord.
>"ALL SHALL HEAR ME AND TREMBLE"
>Damn.
>You really should know better.


2016/02/20 - Biological Quirks

"And so the King-in-Ryleh, and all his court, lived happily, for untold strange aeons."
>The bed next to you lets out a deep rumble as Eris snores.
>Bedtime was always an adventure, as were her stories of choice.
>Not for her the normal childhood tales of Daring Do and her feats of daring do. No, Eris preferred cosmic horror, heroic tragedy, and, normal enough for a child her age, anything involving Mister Toad.
>And whilst you could not remember every word of the Necrominocon, enough echoed through your mind for you to quite easily fill in the gaps as you went along.
>After making them mostly child friendly.
>You pull the covers up to and tuck them under Eris' chin, then stroke a hand through her pure-white hair.
"Sleep well, trouble."
>Another rasping snore is your only response.
>Carefully, you make your way out of her room,and down the hall to yours.
>Tomorrow's the first day back at school after the winter break, and you're going to need all your energy to get her ready in time.
>Sleep comes easily that night, and you drift through realms of bright, strobing madness, forgetting all that you saw upon awakening.
>But as with all days until the very end, the sun must rise.
>With it, you haul yourself from slumber, wiping remnants of sleep from your eyes, and mopping chilled sweat from your brow.
>Placing feet in worn out slippers, and wrapping your morning jacket tight around your shoulders, you tread the usual path through the house.
>Hands trail against the wall, rough paper uneven against your fingertips, as you weave your way through the clutter that a single parent and rambunctious child leave in their wake.
>The dawning sun's light spills through the inset window, barely piercing the dim gloom, but it is enough to see by.
>Entering the kitchen, you click the hob on, leaving it to heat the skillet.

>The butter hisses and spits, melting quickly in the hot pan.
>As soon as the whole base is covered, you scoop in a dollop of pancake mix, and then use the spatula to spread it.
>Rinse and repeat.
>Well, repeat. There's no point rinsing everything when you're not done.
>Once you've got a good few cooked well, you slide them onto plates, and slide them across the table.
>Quickly chopping up a banana and a few strawberries into a bowl, you drizzle them all with yoghurt, and leave the bowl in the centre.
>The front doorbell goes off, piercing the near-still morning air.
"It's too early. Why does seven o'clock even exist?"
>Again, the bell rings.
"Hold your... Humans? What would be held here?"
>You reach the door, and unfasten the locks.
>Iron strikes iron, as you pull the bolt back, and throw the door wide.
>A grey mare stands in the syrupy dawn light.
>"Howdy howdy Mister Anon!"
"And to you, Derpy."
>She blinks at you.
>If one looks carefully, they could almost see the clockwork inside her head, jamming and unjamming from second to second.
"cough."
>It's much too early to even pretend to be subtle.
"Do I have a package?"
>Her normal eye dips for a second, and she wets her lips.
>Then her tongue pokes out, and she wets her lips.
>You're going to need the mop later.
"DERPY?"
>"Huh? Oh, no! But you should come see!"
>She takes your hand in her mouth, and pulls you out the house.
>Her tongue runs along your fingers, and you do your best to think of literally anything else.
>She pulls you to the bottom of your garden, and then lets go.
>You pointedly ignore the applehorse staring at your house.
>She does that most mornings, and you can't be bothered to stop her.
>The farrier doesn't normally stop by though.
"Yes, Derpy. This is the street. I've seen it many times before. And these are the marketp0nes, I've seen them before too."

>She smiles at you, and laughs.
>"Hah! Good one Anon!"
>Giving up, you turn around, to head back inside.
>But your eyes meet another sight.
>Eris' window is open, curtains drawn back, and she presents a slim silhouette.
>Her elbows are drawn up past her mis-matched ears, and fingers splay from her chin.
>A small crowd of stallholders, early to market, stand at the edge of your lawn, gazing up at her.
>Some have hooves covering their mouths, but most laugh openly.
>"LOOK AT MY SQUIGGLY TESTICLES, AND KNEEL BEFORE ME!"
>Looks like it's time to bring out the anatomy books.
>Again.