Saturday 28 April 2018

1.16 Out




Sage practically jumped at the Ivanov's invitation to a fancy dress dinner (if only to get out of the house), but finds herself still taking care of Naomi when they arrive to pick her up. 

"I'm so sorry, that's so rude of me! I lost track of the time," Sage apologizes profusely. 

"No worries. You go get ready, we'll take care of Naomi in the meantime," Yuri says, already playing with the small infant. He smiles when Naomi makes eye contact with him. and her tongue lolls out. 

 Sage begins to object, but Nadine pushes her out of the nursery, "We don't have all night to bicker, go!"




Once the sitter arrives, the trio makes their way to the restaurant. The sub-zero temperatures necessitate bulky outerwear over their nice clothes, but Sage is just happy to be outside with adults capable of conversation.




They jam outside after dessert, the warmth of their coats and the restaurant nearby letting them stay outside for a bit. 




Afterwards, Yuri hugs Sage goodbye. 

"Thank you for inviting me," Sage says, a wide smile on her face, "The dinner was lovely." 

"No problem. It was a pleasure Sage." 




She gets home soon after and relieves the baby-sitter. After showering and changing her clothes, Sage tends to Naomi. 

"The baby sitter said that you were a handful today," Sage says critically. Naomi continues to suckle from the bottle, oblivious to her bad manners. 

"Well... better her than me. You seem ready for bed," she whispers. She places a sleeping Naomi in her crib. 



She tries to do some guitar practice for work, but quickly falls asleep herself on the couch. 




She's not sure how long she slept, but Sage grabs "breakfast". 

Is this hotdog spoiled? Sage wonders as she coughs out rancid sausage. Taking care of Naomi and working has really made her fall behind on chores. 



And it doesn't look like Naomi's chaotic infancy is going to get any easier... 



Sage looks at the doll and grits her teeth. Her mother sent that stupid thing in the mail as a present for Naomi. 

I shouldn't have kept it. Look at it-all raggedy and dirty. Of course mother would make something like this. 



Sage angrily swipes the toy away from Naomi. The young toddler cries, confused and dismayed. Where did her friend go? 

"Bobo!" she cries her 'friend's' name, "BOBO!" 

Sage closes her eyes and counts to ten mentally. 

"Time for breakfast," Sage says testily. 



It takes some effort, but she coaxes Naomi into the high chair and finally gets her to relax. 

"Bon appetit," Sage tells the toddler. 



She can only sigh when Naomi plunges her tiny hand into the bowl instead of using her spoon and fork. Sage wonders if a song about dining etiquette will get through to her daughter. 

"Naomi please use your spoon,
So that all over the room your food will not be strewn; 
I'd also suggest the fork, 
It might be difficult to adjust to the torque, 
But with a fork and spoon, 
You could eat cleanly soon!" 



Naomi finishes her meal and coos happily to the song. Sage isn't sure if the song is working, but this is much better than crying and screaming. 



Sage tries to teach Naomi the important things. 

"I might get a treadmill in here. Something for me to burn energy with once you're older..." 

Naomi can only cock her head to the side. 




"Bobo," Naomi says sulkily.

"Time for bed," Sage distracts her daughter.

Naomi pouts but doesn't protest.



After Naomi is put to bed, Sage decides it's time to make a call. 

"Sage? Isn't it your bed time?" her mother answers the phone. To others this remark might sound hypercritical, but her mother's question is asked with innocence and genuine concern. Sage rolls her eyes. 

"I'm not a girl anymore, mother. I just put Naomi to bed." 

"I think Nozomi's old enough to tuck herself in, dear. When do you think you two will come home?" 

"Naomi, mother," Sage sighs with exasperation, "You know what, never mind." 

"How am I supposed to know the difference when I haven't seen my grandbaby yet?" 



Sage pauses and then starts over, "Well, Naomi's older now. I suppose we could come and visit. If my boss gives me time off," she hastens to add, "And if you're free..." 

As she thought, her mother beams, "Oh, you're coming over? I should get the guest bed...and clean this place up! Oh there's so much to do..." 

Sage thinks about asking her mother for a precise date, then decides against it. It's not like she'll remember it anyways. 

"I'll call when I get an answer from work about time off." 

With that Sage hangs up, mentally and physically exhausted. 

She has a trip to plan. 
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AN: The Ivanovs came over dressed all fancy only to change into outerwear at the restaurant... oh Sims logic. 



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