Pinkie’s reputation for hosting the best parties in Ponyville, whether they were a birthday party or some never before heard of holiday, like ‘National-Peanut-butter-and-Jelly’ day, never failed to live up the guests’ expectations. Especially when it comes to her ‘Hearth’s Warming Eve Eve’ party, because, let’s be honest, Hearth’s Warming Eve is practically a holiday all of its own. Besides, the ponies of Ponyville aren’t complaining, since this particular bash always takes the top spot as the Best and Biggest of the year. All thanks to Pinkie’s hard work and boundless energy.

Okay, maybe boundless is a bit of a stretch. After all, even the most passionate mare with six cups of coffee with sugar isn’t enougn to keep one awake all night long. Especially when one has four little tykes to keep a close eye on. Eventually, even hyper-active Pinkie Pie reaches her limit. So when you combine throwing the wildest party of the Holiday season with managing four little foals, it’s no surprise that once the guests left, the mess was shoved away for a more thorough cleaning in the morning, and the children were finally tucked up and fast asleep, that Pinkie wanted nothing more than to head to dreamland herself.

In fact, as she trudged up the stairs in the dark with a candlestand in hoof, she could barely keep her eyes open. In her hazy mind, the clear though of ‘bed’ repeated over and over like a chant, guiding her down the long hallway. Only a few more slow, dragging steps and she’d arrive at her door. Suddenly, she stopped in her tracks, right in front of the door just a few feet from her own. Something caught her eye.

Her candlelight reflected off of something in the dark room, jolting the mare almost awake. Almost. Pushing the cracked door open, she peeked her head in and held the candle up. It’s light illumatied the tiny figure of Rocky sitting up straight in bed completely alert.

“Rocky,” she said, rubbing her temples,”what are you doing up so late?”

Rocky didn’t blink. “I couldn’t sleep,” he said meekly.

“You mean…you’ve been awake this whole time?” She asked, her mind slowly whirring back to life.

He nodded, and she glanced at the clock. One hand pointed up at twelve, and the little one pointed down at six.

Trying to come up with a solution, she asked “Um..have you tired…maybe reading?”

He shook his head, saying “no. I’ve already read all of mine.”

“Well, have you tried reading something that’s not yours?” She said, her eyes drifting around the room. Then she saw it.

“How about this one?” She suggested, picking up a the picture book from Twinkle’s dresser. Walking over to his beside, she held it out to him, only for his face to contort in confusion.

“The Night Before Hearths Warming? But, this is a kiddie book?” He said looking up at her in disbelief.

Pinkie rolled her eyes playfully. “Of course it is, and becuase you’re a kiddie too, you might like this. Come on, can’t hurt to give it a try? Afterall, it’s Hearth’s Warming tale, and Hearth’s Warming is only a day away!” she grinned, mustering up ever last ounce of excitement.

Rocky looked at her, then the book, then sighed. “Okay,” he relented, sounding old for a four year old with a squeaky voice.

“But…could you read it to me, Moma?” He added, his pupils expanding in the candlelight.

Deep down, she just wanted her soft, cozy bed, where she could snuggle up to Cheese and drift to sleep. Instead, she just smilied motherly-like as she sighed,” okay, scoot-sy over.”

He obeyed, and she slipped under the covered where he had laid before setting down the candle on the nightstand. Pulling her colt close to her chest and relaxing into the covers warmth, she opened the book, yawned, and began reading.

“Twas the night before Christmas, when all thro’ the house, not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.The stockings were hung by the chimney with care in hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there-“

“Mama,” Rocky interupted, “why did they hang the stockings by the chimney? Seems like an unnecessary fire hazard to me. Santa could just as easily get it the sticking if they were hanging over windows or lying on the table.”

Pinkie yawned again, trying to process what he asked, but she was to tired at this point to come up,with answer. So instead, she just said, “I dunno. Guess it’s just tradition…or something. Anyway…”

She yawned, before picking back up where she left off. “The foals were nestled all snug in their beds while visions of sugar plums danced in their heads-“

“What’s a sugar plum?” He asked.

“It’s a fruit, sweetie.” She answered, a little shortly.

“and Mama in her ‘kerchief, and I in my cap, had just settled down for a long winter’s nap. When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter that I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter. Away to the window I flew like a flash, tore open the shutters, and threw up the sash. The moon on the breast of the new fallen snow gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below; When, what to my wondering eyes should appear, but a minature sleigh, and eight tiny reindeer-“

“How did he get the reigndeer to fly there?” Eh asked, interrupting for a third time in a row. “And for that matter, why have reigndeer at all? If Santa uses magic, can’t he just teleport all the gifts into the home from his own? Why does he need to use reigndeer to get to each house? Why does-“

“Rocky!” She snapped. Then in a softer tone, she said, “Rocky…sweetie, I can’t finsih the story if you keep asking questions. It’s a Hearth’s Warming story, so try not to overthink things for once, okay?”

“Okay,” he nodded, before snuggling deep under the covers. She waited until he was situated before beginning again.

“With a little old stallion, so lively and quick, I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick. More rapid than eagles his coursers they came and he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name. ‘now Dasher, now Dancer, now Prancer, now Vixon! On Comet, on Cupid, on Donner, on Blixen! To the top of the porch! To the top of the wall! Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away all!’

As dry leaves before the wild hurricane fly, when they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky, So up to the house-top the coursers they flew with the sleigh full of Toys- and St. Nicholas too. Then in a twinkling, I heard on the roof the prancing and pawing of each little hoof. As I drew in my head, and was turning around, down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound.

He was dress’d all in fur, from his head to his hooves, and his clothes were all tarnish’d with ashes and soot. A bundle of toys was flung on his back and he look’d like a peddler just opening his pack. His eyes – how they twinkled! His dimples how merry, his cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry. His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow and the beard of his chin was as white as the snow.

The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth and the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath.He had a broad face, and a little round belly that shook when he laugh’d, like a bowl full of jelly. He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf and I laughed when I saw him in spite of myself. A wink of his eye and a twist of his head soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work, filling all the stockings; then turned with a jerk and laying his finger aside of his nose and giving a nod, up the chimney he rose. He sprung to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle, and away they all flew, like the down of a thistle.But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight-“

Pinkie paused, looking down at Rocky for the first time, only to find the colt fast asleep on her arms.

Quietly, she whispered, “Happy Hearth’s Warming to all, and to all a good night.”

Closing the book, she laid it on his stand, then kissed him gently on the forehead. Carefully, she slid out of the bed, holding him steady with one hoof so as not to jolt him awake. Pulling the covers up to his chin, she kissed him one more time and grabbed the candle.

Right before she pulled the door shut behind her, she turned around and softly said, “Goodnight, my little Rocky.”