One of the terms of the challenge is that you have to display your heirs’ portraits in a gallery on the property. I set up a bare-bones “gallery” at the far end of the property. You can see how big the place is!
When young Grayson aged into a child, the game assigned him the trait of “Loser.” This made him a Friendly, Neurotic Loser. And a bit chubby, to boot.
My mind immediately went to George Costanza. Although at this age, with that hairstyle, he looks more like Bobby Hill.
Immediately I instructed his father Bart to paint a portrait. It… is what it is.
Meanwhile, Khloe was climbing the Law Enforcement career ladder. The Undercover Detective level was pretty fun. Every night she came home wearing a different outfit from her undercover work. Like the time she went undercover as, um… that.
Or when they made her work as a barrista.
In her spare time I started her looking for planets. You have to finish all the skill challenges for your chosen max skill before your Sim can eat Ambrosia.
And Grayson had to start learning the painting skill, so that he could one day take over painting duties from his father.
We also bought the cheapest property, a tiny little park in the middle of nowhere. As per the terms of the challenge, I upgraded it to max capacity. (This ate up all their family funds, they went from §21,000 to §481.)
Grayson turned into a teen, and his dad’s portrait of him was… not substantially improved over the last one.
Here’s an odd thing about Barnacle Bay: there seem to be several unacknowledged alien hybrids. How else to explain the strange pallor of some of the residents?
The Alphabetti clan lived outside for most of this week. Except for the little toilet room I created for them.
Grayson turned out to have a better knack for painting than his father. Old-time Sims players will recognize these figures.
Dude, put on some pants! The neighbors can see you, you know!
When not painting, I sent him down to the rotted-out pier to fish for Deathfish, a key ingredient in Ambrosia.
Khloe finally hit the top of the Law Enforcement career ladder. This fulfilled her Lifetime Wish, but naturally I didn’t get a screenshot of that happening.
That’s right, dear – you ARE a superstar!
Another skill challenge is spending 20 hours tutoring other Sims. This seemed super boring to me, but her tutor-ees didn’t seem to mind.
You also have to make six Best Friends. Here, Grayson is chatting up the teenage girl who lives next door.
“I like black!”
“I like light blue!”
Entrancing conversationalists, those Sims.
Eventually the day came when Khloe had to grow into an old woman. I was pretty sure I wouldn’t be able to give her Ambrosia before her Elder birthday, so this didn’t surprise me. Still kind of a bummer, though.
She seems to think so, too.
Grayson grew into a Young Adult, and the game gave him a very Costanza-ish outfit. Loving the glasses!
I had Khloe retire from her job. Bart celebrated by, um… picketing in favor of yetis?
That was weird.
At Young Adult, the game gave Grayson the “Natural Chef” trait. So I chose the “Culinary Collector” Lifetime Wish, and sent him off to the restaurant to climb the Culinary career track. (Also very Costanza-ish, don’t you think?)
To celebrate this transition, I built two small actual homes for them! Bart and Khloe get the best one, with a tiny kitchen and tiny bathroom.
Grayson has to make do with just four walls and a floor, because we ran out of money.
Grayson painted… this. I like it. I think it’s a blowfish? Flying into the sky? Upside-down?
Big trouble last night. A burglar crept onto the property. But Grayson lunged to the rescue! He got out of bed and rushed to confront the burglar before I realized what he was doing.
Grayson lost the fight, but I was still charmed.
Meanwhile, all this buckling down and maximizing skills has been terrible for Bart and Khloe’s relationship.
Not only do they refuse to Woo Hoo with each other, they have started bickering when I haven’t otherwise occupied their time.
Bit sad, really. You work so hard all your life, and by the time you retire, your spouse is practically a stranger.