The evening ended, the excitement and buzz in the air had finally fizzled out. Hours of back and forth from the kitchen with cupcakes, pizza, and hayburgers, the oven caked with enough grease to supply the local Double Patty’s or at least two fast food wagons. The music stopped, all the chairs and tables folded and put away, and the confetti was…mostly swept give or take a patch. As he tied another trash bag to sit out on the street corner ,he saw the last fading visages of a clique of fillies scampering down the path towards their own homes.
 
Dumbbell finally felt like it was safe to breathe a beloved sigh of relief as he leaned against the side of his house. The Cutiecenera was over.
 
Dumbbell sighed and closed his eyes. “Thank the Sun…”
 
Actually no. Damn the sun. It was freaking hot today.
 
“You can thank me too while you’re at it.”
 
Dumbbell reluctantly opened a heavy lidded eye and peered across their front lawn. Hightide’s diminutive form stood near their mailbox, a broom and dustpan clutched limply in his hands.
 
“Hm? What was that?” Dumbbell asked, noting his son’s exhaustion. Hightide came down the path, his hooves dragging like he was walking through a swamp, with the dust pan filled with little squares of colorful paper fated for the trash can.
 
“I said,” Hightide breathed tiredly “It would have been nice if mom and Cherry were here to help out.” Dumbbell chuckled. “I can’t keep your mom away from the Roller Regionals, you know that. Your big sis neither.”
 
Hightide huffed and tossed the broom to the ground, about to dispose of the mound of confetti. “Yeah, but-”
 
“DADDY!” There was a shriek, then a burst of strong wind and Hightide found himself consumed by a tornado of dust and party paper.
 
“Daddy, daddy! Swift Storm and Golden Comet are having a sleepover at their house, can I go, can I go, can I go please?” Kite Runner was doing figure eights in mid air around Dumbbell’s head. Dumbbell caught her on the next pass around, stopping the buzzing sugar filled filly instantly. “Woah now, sweet stuff,” Dumbbell shrugged and gestured to the front lawn as if to emphasize all the chaos that had just went on within its boundaries not less than an hour ago.
 
“We just had a party!”
 
“I know!” Kite Runner swayed in her father’s grasp, upside down, her dimpled smile brimmed with happiness. “But this is the cutiecenera after party! Only my bestest friends will be there!”
 
Dumbbell smirked. “Is your brother invited?”
 
“No.”
 
Hightide snorted from his place on the lawn. “Didn’t wanna.” A momentary pause before Dumbbell released his youngest daughter back to the air. He pointed an authoritative finger at her. “Don’t wreck the place.” he stated. Knowing, or at least hoping he knew that she’d heed her dad’s warning.
 
“Yessir!” Kite saluted before she shot off like an airborne torpedo.
 
Dumbbell shook his head. “These kids.” Hightide was still on the lawn, now flat on his back, covered in confetti. To Dumbbell there wasn’t too much difference between the colt and what remained of the pinata which lay tattered and abandoned, but at least the pinata was smiling. What a champ.
 
“Hightide.” Dumbbell walked over when his son didn’t respond. He leaned over to look him in the eye. “What’s got you bugged, little guy.” Hightide released a slow, low spirited breath and sat up, brushing away the confetti and picking most of it out of his mane.
 
“My little sister got her cutie mark three days ago.” he said.
 
“Yep.”
 
“And I still don’t have mine.”
 
“True that.”
 
The colt’s expression slipped in somewhere between confused and dejected. “How is that possible?” Dumbbell hoisted his son back onto his feet, marveling at the new mess Kite Runner’s confetti storm had created. He’d half a mind to make her clean it herself, but a father couldn’t damper his little girl’s cutiecenera like that. He wiped his forehead and glanced at the near cloudless blue sky. Today was a scorcher, he would have to adjust some of those clouds…
 
“I’m a whole year older than she is!” Hightide paced fretfully back and forth across the lawn. Dumbbell fought to not roll his eyes. Of course a single year makes all the difference.
 
“What did she do that I didn’t do?” Dumbbell clamped a palm on Hightide’s head to stop him. “You’re over thinking it, Tide, remember what I’ve told you? There’s no point in worrying to death over the next sunrise. It’ll come whether you’re there to see it or not.”
 
“I’ve tried everything,” Hightide bit the inside of his cheek. “Nothing’s worked.”
 
Dumbbell smirked. “Everything? You sure?”
 
“Yes, all Kite Runner had to do was…fly.” Hightide dug his heel into the dirt, frustrated seemingly by everything.
 
“Flew straight into a thunderstorm when her classroom’s pet bird got out of its cage , nearly killing me and your ma with a panic attack. And then she came back down as if nothing was wrong with the bird on her back…carrying a bolt of lightning in her teeth. You know, to be specific.” Dumbbell paused, recalling the event with bemused wonderment. “You three get all your weirdness from your mother’s side.”
 
Hightide bit his cheek again, moments away from muttering something about how he could have at least gotten wings in the weirdness package, but not wanting to have another argument over that again. Despite this, Dumbbell still sensed that something was wrong as he watched his son gaze longingly at the sky. A smile crept onto his face. As a certain familiar phrase entered his mind.
 
 
‘Like the ocean needs the moon to take the tides away’
 
 
“All you need’s a little time to chase the blues away.” When he heard this, Hightide jumped, knocked out of his melancholy as recognition dawned on him. “Pops?”
 
“How about this,” Dumbbell clapped a hand on Hightide’s small shoulder, business like. “I have a client tomorrow but it’s only half day.” Hightide’s ears flicked with interest. “Uh huh?”
 
“Surf season started yesturday.” Dumbbell winked. “When I get back, what do ya say we hit the beach, ey?” Hightide’s stunned expression broke into a full grin as he sprung into his dad’s arms like a grasshopper.
 
“Seriously, pops?” Hightide could barely keep himself from squealing.
 
“Of course I’m serious!” Dumbbell laughed deeply as Hightide wriggled in his arms, trying to deflect the oncoming and inevitable noogie of doom. “I can’t keep a fish like you out of the brine for too long. You’ll start flaking!”