I smile as I hold the doorknob, looking back at the cribs and the babies they contain. They're sleeping soundly, and have finally settled into this new home.

It's been three weeks since the "Big Move", as Twilight has taken to calling it. At first, I felt bad for taking away a museum from Kansas, especially when it is a plantation that is so rich in history. I mean, the cellar is full of old tools, documents, images, newspaper clippings, and more. I just felt really bad that I had taken such a beautiful, lucrative museum as my home. But, my misgivings were qualm when I found out why it was shut down: the Klu Klux Klan had gained wind about the strong bias against slavery in this museum. So, when it was opened the next day, a tableau was waiting in the form of a man lynched in a tree. A plaque was set in the ground in his memory, and the members of the Klan that had performed the act were found and arrested. The museum was then forced to be shut down due to racial and political controversy.

So, it is now the home of fourteen ponies. Which means I have to keep it hush-hush, lest a member of the Klan decide that he doesn't like the idea of ponies inhabiting a human settlement.

Anyway, after I had been assured that it was no longer a museum, Charles and I set about buying furniture: a television stand, a desk, several cribs, tables, chairs, etc. The kitchen has already been brought into the twenty-first century, and there are a bunch of outlets everywhere, so we don't have to do any construction. I'm assuming the outlets were installed during renovations to make it a museum.

There are still a bunch of displays up, of course. I'm going to take down a few, but the majority of them will make nice centerpieces.

Speaking of which, I've got work to do. I turn the doorknob, and I take about a half a step out the door before I notice big, lavender eyes, staring right at me.

My first reaction is to have the shit scared out of me. Yeah, I know, it's just a pony, but shut up, I wasn't expecting it. I mean, if you're leaving a dark room, and you see eyes watching you, wouldn't you shut yourself?

Well, luckily I don't. Instead, I compose myself and walk over to the crib, smiling down at the wakeful lavender unicorn.

"Why aren't you asleep?" I whisper, reaching down to pick her up. I cradle her in my arms, gently rocking her back and forth. "So? Why aren't you asleep, you little cutie?"

She stares at me for a few seconds, not moving any of her limbs. She begins to close her eyes, and snuggles against my chest, breathing deeply.

"Can you tell me a story?" She finally asks, looking up at me with her innocent, pure eyes. "Pwease?"

I smile at her, and gently place her back down in her crib. "I'll be right back," I promise, walking off to the colonial-era bookshelf.

Ever since she's seen her first book, Twilight has been requesting that we read together every night. Some nights, she asks for two, like tonight. In case you're wondering, the first book she saw was "America Again: Re-Becoming the Greatness We Never Weren't," by Stephen Colbert. Luckily, she couldn't read any of it, but was intrigued by the letters and their arrangement. So, when she showed me the book, I told her to start on something easy, and ever since, we've been reading different books every night.

Tonight, our second book will be "The Little Engine that Could." I bring an antique chair over to the side of her crib, place the book on my lap, and reach into her crib. I sit her down on my lap, using my forearms to keep her there as I pick up the book

"Can you read that?" I ask, pointing at the title.

"It's kind of dawk," she complains, squinting in the darkness. I roll my eyes at my own stupidity, and reach over to turn on a lamp I bought just for this: it gives off just enough light for us to read, but not enough to wake up any of the other ponies.

"I can see it now," she says, energetically. She begins to mouth out each of the words, and I help her on one or two of them, such as the "g" in "engine". When she's finished the title, I congratulate her, and open the book.

When we've finished reading, the lavender unicorn lets out a large yawn, and looks up at me with her crystalline eyes. I smile at her, and cradle her in my arms as her eyes close.

"Good night daddy," she whispers as she snuggles against my side. I smile, and say "good night, sweetheart." Her breathing slows, and after a few minutes, I put her back in her crib, with Celestia and Luna. I originally had them organized via some crazy system, but a few of them kept reaching towards each other through the bars in the crib, so I put them where they wanted to be. Derpy wanted to be with my sock, so I gave her a teddy bear to sleep with. She was disappointed that she couldn't wear it on her hoof, so I bought her an animal slipper. It's a tiny bit too big for her, so she simply curls up inside of it and goes to sleep. It's hard to believe that she'll ever be as big as a horse one day, given how freaking tiny she is.

Before I leave, I make sure that the thing-a-majager is on. I forget what it's called, but it's one those thingies where I can hear if one of them starts crying. Kind of like a walkie talkie. You probably know what it is. Yeah, you. No, not you, you. Ugh, forget it.

I softly close the door behind me, and walk downstairs. As I pass the clock, I glance at it, and see that it is 5 o'clock.

Perfect time for a nap.

I've been awake every night, taking care of them. I can barely stay awake while I play Skyrim anymore. And I'm one of those guys that gets super involved in it, and will delve into every single thing in every single town. And I only have one save file at level 60. I haven't even gone to the Greybeards yet, which basically means that I'm stuck with a weak-ass Force Shout. But I've taken every quest in every town, and I don't have any mods. I only have steel armor, and I've been going on about this for too long now, haven't I?

Anyway, I plop down on the couch, turn on the thing-a-majager receiver, and instantly begin to fall asleep, grateful for the (hopefully) hour of nap time the babies and I are sharing. And I'm also grateful that Tratno and Charles have gone into the city to go shopping for a television, a refrigerator, etc., etc. We're fully bringing this house into the twenty first century step by step.

I take a deep breath, fluff my pillow a bit, and fall asleep in the silence of the house; the grandfather clock ticking away time as I fall beneath the waves of slumber, ignorant to time and place.