“Dude, what are you doing?” Serpent asked.
“Doing the dishes, what does it look like I’m doing?” Scarab answered with a question.
“I don’t know, maybe smashing the dishes?”
“Why would I do that?”
“So you don’t have to clean them!”
I’m glad Scarab has a conscience. Or that he knows I’d know if he smashed the dishes.
No, we weren’t sleeping while my sons were discussing smashing the dishes. We went to bed shortly after. It was wonderful to share a bed with Cam again. I just wish he’d deigned to join me under the covers. I do like a midnight snuggle.
In the morning, Cam had some fun doing what looked like square dancing. I would have joined him, but I was busy calling Zoey and trying to convince her to do something with me, just us girls. I think she was mad at me, though. I got the impression she knew what I’d done to Cameron, and that she wasn’t feeling as forgiving as he was. I wonder how I’m supposed to fix this if that’s the case. Maybe she’d want to do therapy too?
Oh, yes, and you may have noticed the guitar was retrieved from the basement. It’s only right, seeing as I’m not mad at Cam anymore, and he’s not gone.
Since Zoey didn’t want to play, I decided to do something I never really get time for and always want to do. That’s right, wiggle my butt at the sprinkler and tell it I’m better than it is. Doesn’t everyone love doing that?
Curly astounds me with his choice of sleeping surfaces. Not only were there two cushy beds right there with nobody in them, but the armchair was only a short distance away too. It can’t be that hard to drag yourself an extra foot to your own bed, especially with four feet.
The next day, I gave him a scrubdown because of all the carpet lint buried in his fur.
“Curly, I’m worried,” I said. “Zoey wouldn’t hang out with me at all yesterday, even though I live right down the street from her. I suggested going to the pool, and we never get to go to the pool so I thought that would be fun. I really hope she’s not angry with me, I hope she’s…I don’t know, pregnant again and feeling hormonal, or that she got a job and just forgot to mention it to me. She’s my only Sim friend who isn’t related to me and isn’t a pet. Is it so wrong of me to want to keep her?”
As usual, Curly had no words of wisdom, just his ear-waggles to show he was listening.
“But apart from Zoey, things have settled down well. It’s so lovely to have Cam back, and of course I love seeing my kids grow up. And you know what? I’m enjoying my break from babies. I mean, I love babies and toddlers, but sometimes a woman needs a chance to breathe, you know? I hope Cam doesn’t mind. I did promise him we would have more biological children together.”
“Cam,” I said when Cam made to leave the room.
“Yes?” he asked.
“Are you okay with waiting for more babies for a bit?”
“Yes,” he said. “I don’t mind at all. I can tell you’ve been enjoying your break. I’ll wait as long as you want to.”
“And you don’t mind?”
“Why should I? You’re the one who has to waddle around with them inside you. The least I can do is let you pick when you have more.”
That night, Dragonfly was doing jumping jacks while everyone watched her.
“Is that a new dance?” Serpent asked. “It looks pretty awkward.”
“It does, but I bet I could fit some awesome music to it to make it work,” said Cam.
Firefly sighed. “You dweebs, she’s working out.”
“What’s that?” Scarab asked.
“You know, when you purposely move your body around so you don’t get fat,” said Firefly.
“No, that,” said Scarab, pointing out the window. “It looked like a pink banner.”
It was no banner. It was Sonset’s tail flashing past the window as we left. I thought it was about time I took him out for more practice at the training grounds.
And yes, I did fall off my horse again. For someone who’s owned a horse for a while, I still always manage to dismount wrong. I have to wonder if Sonset helps me dismount wrong more often than not.
Anyways, I got off to pick up that seed there. I miss gardening and was thinking of trying again. Maybe I’ll just have less plants this time.
At home, I found Cam drawing. I was torn between being happy to see him doing something he always talked about loving, and seeing that what he was drawing looked like a big pink monster.
“That’s not supposed to be me, is it?” I asked him.
“No, of course not,” he said. “It’s just something I saw in a nightmare.”
“You’re scared of that?”
“No,” he said. I didn’t believe him.
We walked outside to pay the bills together, and then he reassured me that he was not afraid of me. I was glad.