I've joined the police department.
I'm at wit's end pleading with my mother.
She must be the stubbornest woman who ever lived.
Meanwhile, I'm working to take down the last of the Altos, even though we no longer pay tribute to Vita's spawn.
I suspect that the tribute is coming to my mother instead.
I may be a forensic analyst but I don't know everything. I'm not sure I want to know.
I'm also 30 already.
I wonder if I'll ever find Mr. Right.
So far, there's only Terence Waterman.
Dagmar occasionally talks to living Sims these days.
She still prefers to hang with the ghosts.
She's just turned 21.
My mother's turned 65.
Much to my surprise, she's retired.
I can't even pretend to take the credit; I'll just appreciate it for what it is.
She's even doing her share around the house!
While this lasts, I'll go to work on Eyvin.
With less than stellar results. He says we need the money.
Which is hilarious, given the way Jeri's raking it in.
The ghosts are altogether out of control. I think it's only by Dagmar's intercession that we're permitted to live here at all.
She's planting the seed that they'd be happier among their own kind. It's slow going.
Still, when it comes to ghosts, it's clear that she's inherited her grandfather's blarney.
So it's agreed.
She's gone about town...
Gathered up all the graves...
And taken them to the cemetery, where we've had the loveliest memorial service. We've honoured our ancestors' lives, shared our reminiscences and thanked them for their dedication to restoring Sunset Valley to normalcy.
And laid them to rest at long last.
