Chapter 1.18

Chapter 1.18- Pesky Little Bug

                Finally, a conversation with Cyrus Helen can follow

                “Why does Dad always leave his dirty dishes out? It’s gross!”

                 Helen thinks she might just cry. She’s… so… proud… of how well Cyrus is turning out. So proud… *sniff.

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                Cyrus is a divine dancer. Fluid movements combined with grace and agility make him the coolest cat on the block… in his opinion. It does NOT, however, make him completely oblivious or turn off his uncanny ability to know when Helen and Buck are getting frisky.

                “Can you two please get a room?”

                A quarter turn in the line dance he’s practicing lets him see that he is totally the star of this show. He’d suspected it all along.

                “Cyrus,” Helen sighs exasperatedly. “You don’t get to tell the adults what to do. When you get to be an adult, you can tell your kids what to do. But not until then.”

                Helen stomps forward followed by Buck.

                “So,” Cyrus continues. “So where are you guys going then?”

                “To get a room, Cyrus,” Buck tells him under his breath.

                “Don’t encourage him!” shrieked Helen.

                Confirmed by their actions, Cyrus knows he’s TOTALLY the boss.

                There was little doubt in Cyrus’ mind about his persuasive abilities, either. When he finally managed to talk Buck into joining him it was simply a matter of course.

                “Don’t get cocky, kid,” Buck laughed at him. “I’m only doing this as your mom is insisting that I work on my dance skills before I embarrass her at our wedding.”

                “What do you mean,” Cyrus wants to make sure he’s hearing this right. “What do you mean by ‘our wedding? I thought you guys were married! All the other kids at school... their parents are either married or divorced. And Divorced means not living together anymore. You guys live together.”

                “Aw, Cyrus,” Buck tries to soothe. “Cyrus your mom and me have just been living together since before you were even born. We love each other, but we’ve never done anything about it. Now we want to. Is that ok?”

                “Yeah, that’s ok,” Cyrus grinned. “Just don’t move out and divorce us, ok?”

                “That’s never been a plan, son.”

                “When are you getting married?”

                “When Galen and Layla can take a little better care of themselves while being outside.”

                Miraculously, the questions stopped.

                “Oh.”

                Buck froze in surprise.

                “Oh, ok.” Cyrus said.

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                “In the morning,” Cyrus tells his little sister. “Daddy is taking me fishing.”

                Though Phedra is still a toddler, and sometimes a pesky little bug, Cyrus likes to talk to her. He has a few friends at school now, but Phedra is usually a better listener.

                “I’m going to be a really great fisherman one day. And this time, Dad is promising to let me hook my own bait! I’ll need to know all about that one day.”

                “Daddy wuvs Fuddy Fay,” Phedra lisps back. “Fay be gweat fiss.”

                Today might not be the day where Phedra is a great little listener for Cyrus’ tales.

                “Ugh,” rolling his eyes, Cyrus can’t believe what she’s saying. “Phedra. You can’t be a fish. And you really wouldn’t want to be one once I become a fisherman. I’d catch you. Then I’d EAT you!”

                “Cy not get Fay!” Not to be deterred, Phedra presses on. “Fay be big fiss. Fay eat you!”

                “Really, Phedra,” sneered Cyrus, who had adopted a patronizing tone. “Fish don’t eat sims. And you’re never going to be a fish. You’re a sim.”

                “Fay eat you wike BWOCK!” Phedra stuffed the green block in her mouth, gnawing and slobbering all over it.

                “That’s gross, Phedra,” Cyrus was getting really tired of Phedra trying to one-up his plans. “Gross like garbage gross.”

                “Gwoss wike Cy!” Phedra was a smart little thing. She knew what buttons to push.

                “MOOOOOM! DAAAAAD! PHEDRA CALLED ME GARBAGE!!!” Cyrus was more than willing to throw Phedra under the bus.

                Phedra, however, was unphased. “Not Fay! Bad Cy!” And as Buck came in to grab Phedra for a nap she glared at her brother. She’d get him back. She wouldn’t forget.

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                My, how time does seem to fly. 

                The twins will age up at the same time, of course, but this time, Phedra also has a birthday.

                Except for the eyes and mouth, Galen looked like he could have been the child of Helen’s brother William. It was unnerving to see so much of William come back through her son. Hopefully, though, he hadn’t inherited any of the insanity that drove William, that currently lives through his daughter Sadie.

                Little Layla took her turn next.

                This little one had Buck’s coloring and a blend of Helen and Buck’s features. 

                Phedra was held tightly in Buck’s arms as her turn arrived.  Buck could hardly believe that his Fuzzy would be going to school soon.

                Sparkly Age-up Jumping!

                And Phedra now had the ability to be a REAL pain in the ass to Cyrus.

                “Just so you know,” Phedra plops down beside Cyrus with a plate of leftovers. “I’m totally going fishing with you and Daddy the next time you go.”

                Taken aback, Cyrus ignores her.

                “I’m also going to catch more fish than you and be a better fisherman,” Phedra continued.

                “Fishermen are men Fay,” Cyrus says exasperatedly. “You can catch as many as you want, but you still can’t clean them and I bet you won’t even touch them.”

                “Oh,” mock surprise coloring her voice. “Oh, I have to clean them? And gut them too, I suppose. Well then. I guess I’ll just be such a great fisherwoman that fishermen will fear my name. And one more thing, I’m also going to beat you in every subject at school.”

                Gaping, Cyrus glares at Phedra as he takes his dishes to the sink. He might not like it if this is what happens to sisters when they grow up. He’ll have to keep a better eye on Layla from now on.

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                For the time being, though, Helen and Cyrus are trying their best to get the little ones in shape to entertain themselves successfully at the wedding. Teaching them to walk should eliminate the need to be carried, and should keep the knees of dress clothes cleaner.

                While teaching them to talk should allow both toddlers to tell their needs to those around them.

                “Makeup!” Too bad Helen’s choice of topic isn’t going to get Layla a whole lot of help from strangers.

                Her success, though, is all that matters to her. 

                Buck’s lesson to little Galen is more practical.

                “The sun and rain help the seeds to grow into plants!”

                “-Then, when the plants are big enough, we pick them, cook them and eat them. Then we call it ‘food!’”

                “Foo!”

                “Yup! So when you’re hungry, just tell someone you’d like some food.”

                “Foo!”

                “You’re goin’ to do great at the weddin’.”

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                The first day of school was a snooze for Phedra. She knows everything the teacher is trying to pound into their heads. Cyrus is a little slower. He plods along the subject matter as best he can. It doesn’t always click for him the first time as it does for Phedra.

                “See,” Cyrus had made it in the door before Phedra, started on his homework first. “See, I told you that school was boring and hard. And now you know how awful homework is!”

                Glancing at Cyrus, Phedra can’t believe he’s still working on the math that took her all of 10 minutes to complete. Cyrus scratches his head, frowns, and does all other manner of strange contortions to his face that wastes his precious brain power in her opinion. He also doesn’t seem to get that if you talk, you’re not working. You’re just distracting. 

                “Right,” Phedra says as she stands. “Well, I’m going to leave you to it. I’m going to play, now.”

                Cyrus sighs deeply, frowning even more. He hadn’t been paying any attention to his sister or how quickly she was blazing through her work.  Flipping his pencil to erase an wrong answer  as Phedra skips off Cyrus considers giving up. How come it’s always so easy for her?
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And we all grow up. Next time, a wedding!

There are better pictures of Galen and Layla in the Generational goals tab. I didn’t realize that I had absolutely NO good pics of Layla until now. Sorry.