Chapter 10: When We Have Shuffled Off This Mortal Coil

(Z: That's right. Shakespeare. We just got classy all up in here, yo.)

Today was Altin's first day off since the move, and he was determined to spend it with Elsie. Time for some father-daughter bonding. Not that he knew anything about father-daughter bonding.

But hungry horses wait for no one, as Spot reminded him with an early morning bite. Huh. He hadn't gotten one of those in a while. In fact, there was something about her behavior this morning that seemed off, and yet somehow familiar. Something about how she carried herself, and how crotchety she was...

Oh. Oh. Well, that was what he got for letting her run around with a stallion all day.

More babies. Great.

Speaking of stallions...Altin had to admit, it was nice to be able to feed at least one member of his family without having to count his fingers afterwards.

And now, time to get down to business. Kids like books, right?

A book about counting was probably the wrong choice for someone that couldn't read. He was pretty sure Elsie didn't even know what some of these objects were.

"Then again, I don't know what any of these things are, either. Let's see, two green dead frogs, three balls of sparkly blue tinfoil?"

Okay, Plan B. Time to teach Elsie to walk. Altin could do this. His body was a finely honed athletic machine (or so he preferred to tell himself). He was the Grand High Master of walking.

"So...here we go, three, two, and...walk."

*sigh*

Potty break.

"I think we're going about this the wrong way...

How about this. Three...two...and...walk, please? Pretty please?"

Elsie was pretty sure that wasn't going to help.

If Altin had taught her to talk yet, he was positive she'd be saying "I told you so." That, or cursing him out for suggesting this whole "standing" thing. One or the other.

But to both her and Altin's surprise, she regained her balance and half-stumbled the last few steps, falling into her daddy's arms.

"Holy cow, it worked--uh, I mean, I knew you could do it!"

Hmm. Altin was willing to concede there might be a bit of a family resemblance after all. He hadn't realized OMFGfaces were genetically inherited.

Grey Meadow got colder than Appaloosa, especially at night, so after getting the little champion settled in, Altin went out to make sure Spot came into the barn to sleep. He was determined to have everything go smoothly about this foaling, now that he knew what he was doing. In theory.

He got a bit distracted though. Seems like the Ripley family tradition of dropping in unannounced couldn't be stopped, even by the Grim Reaper.

Oh man, was she floating? WEIRD.

"I thought you were busy. You know, being...uh...well, dead."

"Yeah, apparently there's something to that whole 'unable to move on' thing. Who knew? Oh, Watcher, I'm a Patrick Swayze movie. That's just sad."

"Nahh. You don't have the cheekbones for it. Now, me, on the other hand..."

"If you make a joke about getting attached, I swear I'll possess your shower curtain."

"Not that this isn't nice and all, but what's the deal, here?" Altin asked later. "Are you sticking around? Should I go look up ghostbusters in the phonebook? Because you guys have that here. There's totally a 'ghostbusters' category. It's HUGE."

Kirk sighed (without needing to breath. Again, WEIRD.). "I'm probably supposed to be getting over my unresolved emotional issues or whatever." 

He turned at that. "You are? Did someone tell you that? Oh, man, is the Watcher real? Is it true bad Sims go to Error 12 Hell? Hold on, I should take notes."

"In reverse order, what?, I don't know, and yeah, my childhood shrink."

Altin leaned back down. "So what do you think it is, then? Elsie? She started walking today. Maybe she'll be a dancer or something when she grows up."

It was hard to tell through all the glowing, but Kirk's smile seemed more wistful than pleased. 

"Yeah...maybe..." She looked up. "It's almost full daylight and I'm feeling all tingly, so while we're both still here there's some things you need to know."

Altin listened as she pointed out the neighbors that were okay for toddler playdates, and the house with the massive dog Elsie was afraid of, and all sorts of other details he hadn't even begun to notice about his daughter. When Kirk broke off suddenly and looked around, as if someone had come up to them and interrupted, he knew something had. 

"You need to go, right? Got to go 'poof' and vanish?"

"I'm kind of hoping for more of a dramatic mist. Poof is so '80s stage magician." They stood up and looked at each other awkwardly for a moment before Kirk stepped in for an embrace.

"Look, I know I don't do serious well, but I'm being serious now. Don't worry. I'm not. Whatever fear is keeping me here, it's not over Elsie. You've got this. I know you do, and don't you dare argue that, because I'm always right."

Before Altin could argue it anyway, she faded away, and he was alone.

Dramatic mist. Damn it, she was always right.