If you don’t know what’s going on, click here to start at the beginning with the introductory post.
This iconic aspect of The Sims has so far remained unremarked upon by Septomom, but for the first time ever, Patty’s diamond is a sort of muddy, sludgy mustard colour instead of the brooding red it has hitherto been. These diamonds that float above the Sims’ heads, apart from symbolising the gossamer hand of fate pulling us by our vain hopes inexorably toward chaos and despair, are a handy dandy guide to a given Sim’s mood. Although Patty’s still isn’t the nuclear waste green that represents true happiness, as seen on the game’s cover art (and THE HULK’s epidermis), mustard is progress.
Davy, having spent the entire night working to keep Patty’s children alive while she sleeps, decides to leave before the day has even begun. Typical! The least he could do is stay here forever and look after my children until he dies.
I get Patty up just to call him back and it turns out she’s actually somewhat refreshed, so I decide to let her start her day at 4:00 A.M. instead of her normal time of half-past coma. I figure she could use this free morning to study and fix the shower, but first I tell her to have breakfast to restore her hunger level and watch T.V. to restore her fun level. Don’t worry, sloths of the world: Can-Don’t Attitude officially recognises television as a medical requirement, even if the World Health Organisation won’t.
Davy arrives to find Patty busy making breakfast, a process that involves cracking eggs, mixing it up, leaving everything to cook in the oven and then staring motionless at the oven for an extended period of time. He doesn’t seem to want any food himself, instead focusing his energies on tending to the children. Perhaps he draws his sustenance from the emotions of children, like so many Star Trek monsters.
Patty is actually in pretty good shape this morning, recent hysterical breakdowns aside. Her most urgent need is no longer food or sleep, but the bathroom. Now, I didn’t pick up on the following at first, probably because I’m not a professionally-licensed plumber, or even a professionally-licensed internet writer, but the bathroom, that is to say the toilet, is in fact located within the very same room as the malfunctioning shower. “Not a problem” you might say, and you would be right. It isn’t a problem. It isn’t a problem if you don’t let it be. It isn’t a problem if you don’t mind swimming to Toilet Island.
There’s still some time left in between swimming the English Channel and heading off to work, so I sit Patty down to read Living with Mutations, the actual title of which I only just now realise is, and always has been, “Living with Mutation,” singular. Nobody tell the board of internet comedy about that one. I don’t want them to find out I’m unlicensed.
The carpool arrives before Patty’s finished Living with Mutation, but all things considered this morning represents some paradigm-rebooting progress for the Harper household. Admittedly, the kids do seem to love Davy more than their biological mother, who at this point is more their landlord than their matriarch. Actually, come to think of it, a landlord really would have fixed that shower.
Almost as soon as Patty leaves, the game alerts me that Davy has to leave for some other appointment. I’m already frantically worrying about what will become of my household of tots without his dogged supervision, when I’m then told that I owe the electricity an outstanding fee of $72. I pay the bill and sullenly wait for Davy to leave, but as I watch him pottering from one task to the next I inexplicably end up waiting all day. My only explanation is that the terms of his employment have secretly changed and his $75 fee has come to be measured per lifetime.
Then I get another message, this time about Patty’s opportunity to test out some experimental serum cooked up by one of her laboratory co-workers.
I figure that the one thing that can dig me out of my unforeseen downturn of $72 is superpowers, so I accept the offer without hesitation. The game, with a similarly impressive lack of hesitation, immediately tells me that Patty is now sick. Sick of her phat $241 pay cheque weighing down her pockets! But also, incredibly sick from the experimental serum.
Patty arrives home and dismisses Davy, but I have her immediately call him back before he’s even out the door. I have Patty finally finish Living with Mutation, and apart from needing some rest she’s actually in good spirit after her day of work. But of course, the secret to happiness was within her all along – all she needed was the confidence to neglect her children and take strange drugs.