I immediately snap my eyes open when Rarity begins to cry.

Oh, shit...

To my pleasant surprise, none of the other ponies begin to cry. Rather, they all stop what they’re doing, and take a few tiny steps back from the white unicorn.

Smart little buggers...

I walk over to Rarity, (after placing Trixie down on the couch, next to Fluttershy,) and pick her up.

“What’samattah?” I coo to her, one of her tiny hooves coming up to wipe her eyes of tears. I immediately look over at Rainbow Dash, who is simply staring up at me with an air of innocence. I sigh, and look back to Rarity.

I finally catch on.

About five minutes later, I’m tossing away the soiled diaper in my bedroom wastebasket, and powdering the new one. As I wrap it around Rarity, she nods to me in approval. Clearly, even as a toddler, dignity and cleanliness are big issues to her.

That, and babies tend to cry when they go to the bathroom in their diapers.

When I make my way back into the living room, the babies are looking at me in confusion, as if to ask me why I have a big bag of diapers, and Rarity, with me.

In response, I walk over to the couch, place the elegant white unicorn down next to me, and place the diapers down, patiently awaiting the next change.

However, the next change comes in the form of a phone call from Charles.

“Hello?” I say into the phone, dreading why I can hear police sirens wailing in the background.

“Hey, Pete, funny story,” I hear Charles say, exasperated. “I almost got arrested for being in that house.”

“What!? Why?” I shout, distracting the ponies from their now rather large game of tag.

“There were a shitload of drugs in the attic. Cocaine, Meth, Oxycodone, you name it.”

I begin to chuckle, and the ponies decide that it’s okay to resume their game of tag.

“Well, I’ve got to go, Charles. Thanks for letting me know.”

“’K. Say hi to the ponies for me!”

When I’ve replaced my phone in my pocket, I look down at the ponies surrounding me, and see Rarity raising her nose towards the game of tag in distaste, Derpy sleeping, content with a sock in her mouth by my foot, Fluttershy snuggling up with my leg, and Trixie watching the tag game wistfully. I smile at the blue unicorn, and pick her up, cradling her as I walk over to the center of the heated game of tag.

As I place down the blue unicorn to play with her sisters, and brother, I’m instantly tagged as “it” by Octavia.

The ponies stop running around, and take a few steps back. They all seem to be flabbergasted, that Octavia had marked their father as “it”. I sit down, cross-legged, and smile at Octavia in reassurance. The grey filly recovers from her hunched position, and smiles back up at me.

I turn to Trixie, and poke her in her tiny tummy. “You’re it,” I coo to her, instantly getting her wrapped up in the game.

Before I can get tagged again, I slowly rise to my feet, careful not to hit one of the ponies with my legs, and make my way over to the couch again. I sit down, wrap Fluttershy and Rarity up in a hug, and contently watch the ponies before me play tag.

At the moment, Trixie is still it, and the ponies are practically playing Chicken with her, as she darts to catch them. For once, when with her siblings, she’s smiling and giggling. It’s nice to see her play with them, as she’s obviously rather reclusive when it comes to this kind of thing. I just hope it doesn’t come back to bite her later on, such as in High School, or in College, or when at a job interview...

Bah, I worry too much. At least I now know how my father felt...

Anyway, getting back to the matter at hand, Trixie manages to tackle Vinyl Scratch as the white unicorn darts around her. Giggling, the blue unicorn leaps up, and darts away.

Vinyl sits up, and observes the surrounding ponies, pouting slightly as her red eyes zip around in her bright, white complexion. Finally, she begins to run after Celestia, a devilish grin on her face as her blue mane and tail bounce around, the streaks of neon blue in the darker blue creating a dull light show.

Changing tactics, the white unicorn manages to tackle Twilight Sparkle, who strays a tiny bit too close to Vinyl as she darts past her. Immediately smiling at her chance to be “it”, Twilight studiously examines how each of her siblings run, and I take the moment to examine them, as well.

Big Mac runs along with sure, large strides. He’s not the fastest of the ponies, but he manages to cover a lot of ground with his strides. Well, by a lot of ground, I mean for his diminutive size.

Always near Big Mac is Applejack, who runs with the same surety, but with smaller strides. Despite that, the rapidity of her strides make up for the size, as she manages to cover about the same amount of ground as Big Mac, in the same amount of time. The both of them, when they go in to play chicken, always manage to get out in a split second, before the pony marked as “it” gets them.

I divert my gaze to Rainbow Dash, who simply runs around for the sake of running. Her strides are fast, and much more rapid than Applejacks’. Whenever her hooves make contact with the ground, she seems to float for a small while, probably due to the wings she keeps outstretched as she runs. When she goes in to play Chicken with whoever’s “it”, she blows right past them, and doesn’t even bother to wait and let them catch up. She just blows right past them, and leaves them dazed. Her rainbow mane helps, as she leaves a translucent, colorful streak behind her as she runs, confusing the senses and begetting many gapes of wonder, especially from me. I can’t believe that her mane is literally streaking behind her.

Pinkie Pie catches my little eye next. She doesn’t care if she’s “it” or not, she just enjoys playing around with her siblings. One second, she’ll be avoiding one of them, the next, she’ll be chasing them. And, most of the time, the pony she’s running from isn’t “it”, and the pony she’s chasing is “it”. So, more often than not, she’s “it”, and the status only gets passed on when she, by luck or accident, bounces right into one of the sprinting ponies.

My eyes bounce from Pinkie Pie, to another brightly colored pony. Lyra runs at about the same pace as her two companions, and they constantly go in as a kind of strike force whenever they play Chicken with “it”. They bolt run right for the pony who’s “it”, and divert at the last second, only to regroup and keep running a few moments later. Lyra’s blue and white mane bounces along with Octavia’s darker mane, as they run a bit behind Vinyl Scratch.

My eyes jump from the trio, to Trixie, who is watching Twilight with a sort of impatience and distaste as she walks along. I realize that she’s probably deliberately moving slowly, so that she can show up Twilight at the last second. I sigh, and realize that certain things are set in stone, such as a personality of superiority. However, stone can always be chiseled, so I figure that, as her father, I can shape her to be rather different than she was in the show.

My eyes dart from Trixie, to the regal duo of Celestia and Luna. The two are darting around, giggling as they genuinely enjoy themselves. They’re not acting like royalty whatsoever, and, I might just be overreacting, but I believe this shows that I really can shape them to be better than they were in the show. Because if Celestia and Luna aren’t acting like princesses, and simply standing to the side to watch like Rarity is, then it’s possible that they might end up totally different in a different environment, and with a different upbringing. And, if Celestia and Luna can be changed by a different upbringing, in a different world, then Trixie definitely can.

I nod to myself, and I decide that I’m determined to raise these ponies as the best father in the world. I will teach them to be respectful, patient, loving, tolerating, and every other good thing.

However, in this world of violence and lies, how could I possibly raise them to be perfect little angels? Eventually, they’ll catch a whiff of the outside world, and they’ll realize that life isn’t so peachy, everything isn’t so glorious. Eventually, my little ponies are going to grow up, and won’t be the happy-go-lucky, trusting ponies in the show.

Rather, they’ll have to be hardened to certain things. Which fills me with dread, because if Fluttershy is destined to be a meager little pony, how will she ever be able to succeed in the world? I’ll have to teach her to be assertive, and to believe in herself.

And what about Rainbow Dash? With her athleticism, cockiness, and closed mind, how will she ever experience new things? How will she ever manage to make friends, when she’s always so blunt and uninterested about things?

My mind is clouded with worry. Each of the ponies have kinks that I must hammer out, each of them have flaws that may stop them from succeeding in the world...

I mean, when Twilight grows up, and if she has an insatiable will to learn, when she finds all the pain and suffering out there, and delves into it, who will be there to protect her? I won’t be around forever, and I’ll have to make sure that they’re ready to deal with the outside world...

And it’s not like I can keep them tucked away in my house, forever concealed from what the real world is. If I manage to get them U.S. citizenship, I’m sending them to school, and I’m ensuring that their education is the best they can get. They need to be ready for everything...

I stop myself in my thoughts. I’m worrying too much, and I’m starting to sound like my father. Which snaps me back to reality. My father always worried too much, and was so worried that he was almost always shouting at me, telling me that if I couldn’t do that right, I would never succeed in the real world. And, I know I seem like a real screw up: living in a shitty house, and only getting revenue from my artwork. Well, like I said, I have a degree in biochemical engineering. There are no jobs with my skillset open right now, so every day I keep scouring the internet, checking international newspaper websites for a job opening.

Anyway, my point is this: my father would always try to hammer out every little thing in me, things that he saw as flaws. However, when I went into the real world, those flaws never mattered. Oh, they were there, definitely, but I always knew better than to do certain things in public, or in interviews for internships. (I’ve had several internships, all in varying corporations that dealt with biochemical engineering, and most of them were paid, so I have enough experience and letters of recommendations to get a job.) So, if I just manage to teach my children how to act in public, and help them learn what’s appropriate and inappropriate, rather than try to make them perfect in my eyes, but rather make them perfect in their eyes, then that should be enough to ensure their prosperity in life.

However, there’s one pony who I think I have to work extra hard with.

Derpy Hooves.

She can’t even see straight, which was exemplified when she walked into my wall when escaping my bedroom for the living room with her siblings earlier. And, I’m assuming that, due to her extreme cock eye, she could get disoriented very easily and walk right into traffic. And, she might have certain, ah...Mental infirmities, that may hamper her throughout life. She might not understand what something is and get hurt, and I won’t be there to explain to her not to do something. I’ll probably have to put her in a home for the mentally deficient, and I doubt that a school would accept her. If, by some miracle, she’s fully functional, I’ll always have to be around to point her in the right direction, as her unresponsive eye would definitely point her in the wrong direction. I’ll have to monitor her, forever. And not that that’s a burden or anything, but it’s just...Scary. Depressing, even. The fact that my daughter won’t be able to function in society because of a cock eye.

Of course, these are all just my speculations of fear. I mean, apparently, in the robotics team Brooklyn Blacksmiths, (I used to go to Xaverian, I graduated in the class of 2001,) there’s a kid with a cock eye, and he’s one of the drivers, and is one of the best drivers in FRC this year. And, in the year 2012, when almost every High Schooler is tech-savvy, that’s a rather impressive feat.

I take a deep breath, and calm down. I’ll have to change myself, become a father who’s less obsessed with the future, and more concerned with the present. Of course, I’ll have to make sure that they all learn their manners and whatnot, but I need to be here for them, right now. I can’t be constantly reprimanding them because of my fear for their futures.

And now, as I take a moment to reflect, it seems as though everything has to change, in all honesty. First off, I have to change myself, and being only 29, it won’t be particularly difficult to do so.

Second, I need to move, because I’m literally afraid for my children’s lives here, in this shit hole town. Maybe we should move out West, where there’s more space...Screw it, I can worry about that when Charles gets home.

Third, I’ll need a new, larger car. A car that can fit all of these ponies, and keep them safe and comfortable, for when we move. Perhaps a reasonably sized SUV or something, because the ponies aren’t exactly huge or anything...

I chuckle inwardly at the thought of a new car. If I get an SUV, I just know that Charles will never shut the fuck up. He’ll keep making soccer mom jokes until the day I die.

And, lastly, the sleeping Fluttershy has begun to whimper, and poke me repeatedly with an air of urgency. I’m glad I have a trash bin right by me, as I can tell that she needs an immediate change.

When I’ve discarded the soiled diaper, and finished dressing Fluttershy in the new one, I turn back to watch the ponies run around, laughing as Twilight attempts, based on her simple, scientific data, to catch Rainbow Dash just as she passes.

I take a deep breath, and smile.

A change can take place instantly and on purpose, or it can be stretched out over a long period of time, without anybody knowing about it.

However, the amount of time it takes doesn’t matter.

Rather, what matters is the change itself.

So, it’s just like the enigma alicorn said:

By just being the father of these ponies, I can change the world, and make it into a world united by peace, love, and tolerance.

But, to do so, I have to change everything else.

You can thank Chuckles the Werewolf for the idea of Charles getting mixed up in a drug bust.
Also, how do you like it so far? Huh, huh, huh?