"Mommy mommy mommy!"

Derpy rocked backwards as her daughter collided with her outside the schoolhouse. Dinky had come rushing out with the bell, dragging her saddlebags and papers behind her. She squealed and leapt up on to Derpy's back, hopping up and down and shouting gleefully.

"Whoa there, sweetie! Did you have a good first day of school?"

"I did, I did!" Dinky stopped jumping and splayed out on her mother's back, hugging her tightly around the neck. "I made a whole new friend!"

"You did?" Derpy's tone brightened with genuine joy. Internally, she breathed a sigh of relief as she turned toward their home.

"Yeah!" Dinky all but vibrated. "His name's Pipsqueak and he's from Trottingham and this is his first day of school too and he lives with his aunt and we played pirates at recess!"

Derpy laughed, letting her daughter's enthusiasm infect her. "That sure sounds exciting! How do you play pirates?"

Dinky shifted on her back. "Mostly you just run around and yell 'Arr!' a lot. But it's a lot of fun, I promise!"

After a pause, she continued. "Oh! And I told him about you and how you like muffins so much and he said his aunt and him have muffins for breakfast every day! And, and that if we wanted to, we could join them sometime!"

A slight blush found its way up Derpy's cheeks. "Did you now? That's very kind of them. Do you think we should?"

"Uh-huh!" Dinky gave her a tight hug.

"Okay then. I'll have to give you a note for your friend then." Derpy spread her wings. "Hold on tight, Dinky, and mommy will fly us home!"

"Mommy, wait." Dinky's voice choked with just a hint of fearfulness. "Last time, I fell off."

Derpy's wings snapped shut. "Oh. You did, didn't you?" She looked back at her daughter, whose hugging had become more akin to hanging on for dear life. "Maybe I should wait till you're old enough to fly."

"Mooooommy!" Dinky jabbed her lightly in the side. "I don't have wiiiings!"

Derpy chuckled and leaned back to kiss her daughter's forehead. "That doesn't mean you can't ever fly, sweetheart. I guess we'll just have to walk home then." She sighed loudly and rolled her head. "It's a shame. I made a big pot of asparagus just for you and me to celebrate today, but it'll get cold by the time we make it home."

The weight on Derpy's back grew exponentially heavier. Dinky's hooves sagged below the level of Derpy's knees and knocked together like a wind chime made of seashells. It was not possible for her daughter to sound any more defeated than she did right then.

"Moooommyyyyy... Asparagus is grooooooss..."

"Gotcha!" Derpy laughed. "Of course it's gross, and that's why I actually made spaghetti. It'll be nice and warm when we get home, don't worry."

Dinky instantly resumed hopping up and down on her mother's back, somehow able to stay in position as Derpy walked them home.

"Yay, yay, yay, spaghetti!"

---

There were two things everypony in Ponyville knew about Derpy Hooves: one of her eyes moved funny, and she really loved muffins.

The first, no one ever talked about. Derpy couldn't blame them. She'd never met anypony besides her optometrist and Twilight Sparkle who even knew what "strabismus" was. It really wouldn't be fair to hold a pony accountable for not knowing obscure medical terms, and so she didn't.

But that meant whenever a pony wanted to talk to Derpy, they started with muffins. She got muffin baskets for the holidays from her coworkers at the post office. Pinkie Pie always celebrated her birthday with large muffins, and one time with a cake made out of muffins. Every now and then, she'd find a single muffin left anonymously on her doorstep or in her mailbox. In those latter cases, she tried to focus on how thoughtful the pony who'd given it to her had been, and not how it was a federal offense.

Yes, it meant she had to endure a good bit more muffin-based attempts at humor than most ponies. Yes, liking muffins was just one part of her personality and she wished sometimes that more ponies would make an effort to get to know her more deeply. And yes, nopony really knew why she liked them, just that she did. Sometimes she would miss out on cupcakes or donuts or scones or pretty much any other baked good at Sugarcube Corner because "I saved the last muffin just for you!" But she didn't mind. After all, she got more free muffins than anypony in town, and there was really nothing wrong with that, even if they weren't all equally good.

Nopony in town could make the best muffins she'd ever had, after all. Not even her.

If anything truly bothered her though, it was the why. Because even if she'd rather another pony know how much her daughter meant to her, or what she liked to do when she wasn't delivering mail, or what her favorite color was, why she liked muffins was at once her greatest secret and the one thing she most wanted other ponies to understand.

It wasn't the sort of secret that was embarrassing to admit, or that, if it became public knowledge, would ruin her reputation. Rather, it was the sort of secret that was warm and comforting to hold onto. It was the sort of secret that made her feel special, simply because she was the only pony who knew it. And as much as she would have liked to share it with another pony, any time she thought about doing so, she decided to keep it to herself.

---

After consulting with Pipsqueak's aunt via foal-delivered notes, it was decided that tea and muffins would be served for the four of them that Saturday. When the day came, Derpy couldn't help but hesitate at the door to Pipsqueak's house. What was so important to her about making a good impression on this family? She shifted the basket of apples clutched in her hoof and cleared her throat once again.

Dinky, ever the impetuous one, reached up and knocked on the door.

"Just a moment!"

The voice was clipped yet cheerful, and carried that odd nasal quality that Derpy had come to associate with ponies from Trottingham. After a few moments, the door opened to a green earth mare with orange mane pinned up in a round bouffant. Derpy's knees began shaking, despite the mare's warm smile.

"Ah, Miss Derpy Hooves, welcome!" Pipsqueak's aunt looked over her shoulder and called, "Pip, your little friend is here!"

Derpy was silent for a long moment.

"Won't you come in?" The mare stepped to the side, looking at Derpy expectantly.

"D-Dinky," she finally said, "you never told me your friend was related to a town councilpony..."

"Oh, pish posh," the mare said quickly. "We needn't resort to titles or formalities over breakfast of all things. Just call me Swift. And do come in, the tea's getting cold."

"C'mon, Mommy!" Dinky got behind her mother and began to push.

"J-just call me Derpy then!" she said with a forced giggled as she slid into the house.

---

This was not right. This wasn't what she'd wanted.

"Butter, Derpy? Jam?"

This muffin... wasn't a muffin.

It was flat and pale and covered in corn meal. It had been cut in half, and its interior was full of holes. It had released steam when cut, but no wonderful smell of blueberries or chocolate or even just warm, spiced goodness. It was fresh, of that much she was sure, but she just couldn't help thinking it was... bland. Nothing more than bread with holes.

"Um," she said, remembering that a request had been made of her. "I've... Never had a muffin like this before, actually. What... What do you recommend?"

"Oh, haven't you?" Swift smiled warmly. "I prefer mine with lots of butter and just a little jam. But if you've got a sweet tooth, well, that's what the spoon is for!"

Derpy looked over at the smaller table, where Pipsqueak and Dinky had already stuffed themselves with the bread-things and were having an animated discussion about the possible adventures two young pirates could have in the coming week.

"You work for the postal service, yes?"

"Hmm?" Derpy's head snapped up. It was unusual for a pony to start conversation about her position. But then, it was no surprise that Swift Justice would know who worked for what government positions, given her own. "O-oh, yes, I do."

Swift smiled lightly. "How is it?"

"It's nice. I mean, I like it because it's kind of slow-paced and I don't have to worry too much about being clumsy if I fly."

Swift nodded. "I don't think you're our mail carrier, though."

"Oh, no, I'm not. Old Mister Post delivers the western route, and I'm on the eastern one." Her gaze dropped to her muffin. "I get half of downtown, Sweet Apple Acres and Rainbow Dash's house, but not your neighborhood."

"I see. I wish my job kept me as active." Swift took a sip of her tea and regarded Derpy with one eye. "You know, if you let it cool much longer, the butter won't melt."

"Oh."

Her leg like a wet noodle, Derpy lifted the butter knife and sliced two squares from the slab, placing one on each half of her "muffin". With equal listlessness, she drew the jam spoon to her plate and emptied it.

"Derpy," Swift said calmly, "I'm hesitant to bring this up, but you seem to have missed the mark, as it were."

Gaze shifting down, Derpy gasped slightly. The blob of jam had fallen onto the edge of her plate and was threatening to drip into her lap. Quickly, she scooped it up with the spoon, spreading it onto one half and then procuring another bit of jam the other. With equal alacrity, she grabbed the so-called muffin and jammed it into her mouth.

Swift Justice stared at her just long enough to avoid a breach of etiquette.

"What do you think, then?"

"Iff gub!" Derpy flushed, chewed some more, and then swallowed. "I mean, um, it's good. The jam is very nice!"

Her host's eyes dropped to her own food, then searched the table. "Not to your liking, then?"

The redness in Derpy's face intensified. "I'm sorry. I'm being rude, aren't I?"

"No, not at all."

"Well, I'm definitely being silly." Derpy picked up the other half-muffin and took a bite. She chewed much more slowly this time, taking note of the rough texture and the way the holes held the melted butter. It still wasn't a muffing, no matter how she tried to think of it. "For what this is, it's very unique, and I don't hate it. It's just... not quite what I was expecting."

"Because of the name, no doubt?"

Derpy nodded.

"I see. Well, I do believe ponies in this area call them 'Trottingham muffins', to differentiate from what you purchase at Sugarcube Corner."

Derpy's eyes widened. "Oh! If I'd known that, I..." She nearly dropped her food as she flailed to regain her composure. "I mean, I'd have still come over for breakfast, I just wouldn't have expected real muffins. I mean, not that these aren't real."

Swift laughed softly. "It's quite all right, no need to get so flustered. Might I let you in on a little secret?"

Derpy nodded and Swift leaned in towards her. She did likewise.

"I actually find them rather dull. Copious amounts of butter help soften the crags, you see."

Derpy frowned. "Then why make them?"

A smile played over Swift's mouth and her gaze dropped to the side. "For my nephew. Pip absolutely loves them. They're a family recipe, which my sister gave me along with him. She and her husband are having some renovations put in on their house... as well as their marriage, you see." She cleared her throat. "So I've made them every morning since he came to Ponyville, and it helps him cope with homesickness."

Derpy tilted her head. "It does?"

"Quite. Luckily, they're easy to make the same way his mother does, and they let him start the day off with a smile." She leaned back in her seat, smiling. "They remind him of her."

Derpy's eyes widened again. She turned to look at Pipsqueak, who was busy showing Dinky a map crayoned onto a piece of construction paper. Something in her mind sparked a warm feeling that spread throughout her entire body.

Oh, sweetie, did you bump your head? Here, have a muffin. It's chocolate chip, your favorite!

There, there, don't cry. Why don't you sit down and watch how I fix Mister Hippo and then we'll sit down and have muffins after?

Oh my little angel, you have to be more careful where you fly! Come inside, we'll clean you up and bake a fresh batch of muffins. I have a recipe for pineapple and coconut muffins that I've just been dying to try out!

Derpy looked down at the muffin in her hoof. She lifted it to her nose and sniffed it gently. It was still a little warm and the odor was pleasant, like fresh air on a summer day, if somewhat overpowered by strawberry jam. She took another bite and chewed it, not taking her eyes off of the muffin in her hoof.

"It's not a muffin," she said at least, drawing the words out, "it's a memory."

Swift smiled. "I suppose that's one way of looking at it, yes."

Later that morning, as they left Swift's house and made promises to stop by for breakfast again, Dinky agreed that the muffins had been good, but not really muffins. She also said that she had never seen her mommy smile so widely or for so long.