Mia’s Chapter 9

With Colton becoming a teen, we added the next pack — Spa Day — plus Luxury Party and Perfect Patio. The kids were thrilled. I barely noticed. I finally finished fully upgrading the rocket, and for the first time in what feels like weeks, I rejoined the world. It took me a minute to remember how to talk to people who aren’t aliens or coworkers. The family kept trying to update me on things I’d missed, but I’m still chasing my next promotion at the lab, so my attention span is questionable at best.

I was the first one to try a mud bath. I will also be the last. No one warned me that after the mud bath you have to take a shower to get the mud off. It felt like a prank. A very expensive, spa‑themed prank.

Then it was time for Trace to become a teen. He chose Neat — which feels like a direct response to trying to hide his dirty dishes in random places when he was growing up — and took Best‑Selling Author for his aspiration.

Ellie mastered the Social skill, which means she’s now mastered Creativity, Motor, and Social. She’s speed‑running childhood like it’s a competition. And then it was her turn to age up. She chose Loyal and Fabulously Wealthy.

I slept through Oliver’s birthday cake. I slept through Trace’s cake. I slept through Ellie’s cake. In my defense, I’ve been abducted twice this week — numbers eight and nine — and that takes a toll. You try getting yanked into the sky by a beam of light and see how well you sleep afterward.

And then Emily died. The whole house went sad again. Even I felt it, and I’ve been living half my life in the rocket bay. It’s strange how quiet the house gets when someone is missing, even when no one says anything out loud.

There was also the day I forgot my clothes completely. I don’t mean I misplaced a shirt or walked around in pajamas — I mean I walked through the entire house wearing absolutely nothing and didn’t notice. I left the bedroom, strolled past the kitchen, wandered through the backyard, and headed straight down into the lab like it was the most normal thing in the world. I used the microscope. I ran the invention constructor. I even sat next to Ellie while she was on the computer and had a whole conversation with her about her social life. She didn’t say a word about my… situation. I’m not sure if that means she’s incredibly polite or deeply desensitized to my nonsense.

At no point during any of this did it occur to me that I was missing something important. Not until I grabbed my lab coat, walked toward the front door, and caught a glimpse of myself in the hallway mirror. That’s when it finally clicked. Apparently my brain can track molecular structures, alien flora, and the precise torque needed for a wormhole stabilizer, but it cannot remember pants. Or shirts. Or dignity.

I was still spending most of my time bouncing between space runs and lab work, so the days kept slipping past without me paying much attention to what was happening inside the house. Whatever the kids were up to, I wasn’t around to witness it. No one came looking for me with smoke, screaming, or urgent questions, and the place remained upright every time I wandered through, so I assumed everything continued to run smoothly enough.

At some point while the rest of us were out, Ellie managed to set herself on fire cooking. I came home to scorch marks on the floor, a very shaken teenager, and the fire department packing up like this was just another Tuesday. They put her out, put the kitchen out, and left before I could even ask what she’d been trying to make. I had to replace the stove and counters again — second time this month, if we’re keeping score. The first was when Colton tried to cook and turned himself into a human torch. At this point I’m starting to think the real danger in this house isn’t aliens or wormholes. It’s my children trying to make dinner.

There was also the time I got really sick from some vague virus and spent several days asleep. Not resting — asleep. The kind of sleep where you wake up, blink once, and immediately fall back over like someone unplugged you. I don’t even remember getting into bed. One minute I was analyzing samples, the next I was horizontal and dead to the world.

Apparently the household kept functioning around me. I’d occasionally surface long enough to hear footsteps, muffled conversations, or someone yelling about homework, but it all felt like background noise in a dream I wasn’t participating in. Oliver tried to check on me a few times, but I was too busy losing consciousness to be helpful. The kids peeked in once or twice, decided I wasn’t dying, and went back to whatever chaos they were generating.

I finally woke up properly after a couple of days, still groggy, still annoyed, and very behind on my breakthroughs. The family acted like this was normal — like “Mom disappearing into a fever coma” was just another line item on the weekly schedule. At this point, between the abductions, the rocket work, and the general exhaustion, a mysterious virus barely cracks the top ten weird things happening in my life.

Once I finally recovered and rejoined the land of the living, the family sat me down and tried to catch me up on everything I’d missed. Apparently an entire week happened without my participation. Colton is dating someone now — a boy named Misael Schneider. Trace is dating too, a girl named Kiley Corley. I blinked at both of these revelations because I swear they were children five minutes ago, but no one else seemed alarmed.

Somewhere in the middle of all this, I got promoted to Mad Scientist — level nine. I don’t remember doing anything to earn it, but I’ll take it. Oliver got promoted twice, first to Serum Sequencer and then to Technological Innovator. He looked very proud of himself. I nodded supportively, still trying to remember what day it was.

The kids all kept their A’s, did their homework, and managed to avoid any major drama. That might be the most shocking part of the entire update.

Ellie even got into photography and surprised me by updating all our family pictures. They look great. I have no idea when she learned how to do that.

Oliver mastered Logic too, which I respect. It’s nice having someone else in the house who can follow my explanations without squinting.

It’s strange hearing about your own household like it’s a recap of a show you missed, but that’s what happens when you spend a week unconscious. At least everyone seems fine. Better than fine, actually. Maybe the house runs smoother when I’m not awake to interfere.

Simmers!

If you’re interested in writing and/or reading sims stories, participating in fun competitions and events, joining a friendly and welcoming community, completing legacies and challenge and earning medals, or just having a great place to discuss Sims 2, Sims 3, or Sims 4, then there is a place for you at the