From the moment Alayna first laid eyes on Devan, she was madly in love. She had no doubts that her father knew what he was talking about, but now that she was actually experiencing it, she thought it was the most amazing feeling in the world. She loved Roland, and she would do almost anything for him. She would follow him to world’s end. But, for Devan, would really do anything for him. She felt like she could even hurt someone over him–she was that smitten.
Devan was rarely ever in his crib with his two devoted parents being enamored with him.
“Hey, little guy! I’m your grandpa! What’s this? You don’t have to be afraid of me!”
“Ohhhh yeah! Who’s your favorite ghost now, huh?”
The baby days were quickly flying by, and Alayna and Roland were getting more and more excited about Devan 2.0: the child version. The day of his birthday was nerve wrecking for both of them. They had so much nervous energy, they just couldn’t contain themselves. They tried to do everything in their power to stay busy and wait, but they were just too excited. Alayna tried painting. That’s what she did best. She did some really good work, but it just wasn’t satisfying enough. So after a few paintings, she went to the piano and tried to pour herself into it. It worked…for a little while.
Her beautiful music drew Roland from wherever he was into the music hall.
“Hi, honey,” she said.
“You’ve gotten so good!”
He listened to her for a few minutes and then brought up the llama in the room.
“Are you nervous…about seeing him?”
“I’ve been crazy all day,” she said and stopped playing.
“Me too! I hope he likes me.”
“Don’t be silly, Roland. He’ll love you. I gotta go paint some more.”
She went back into the studio and painted until she couldn’t take it anymore. She wanted her little boy to grow up now.
She stopped what she was doing and went into the nursery to have her son’s birthday.
She closed her eyes and prayed that Roland would forgive her for not waiting for him. Then she prayed that her son would come out with a good trait. The Watcher answered her prayers, and he developed the creative trait and the creative aspiration. Devan admired his new self and then left her to find his father.
His first order of business was to hug him. He found him in the kitchen having a mid afternoon snack.
Roland almost choked on his chips when he heard Devan’s sweet little voice. At first he was mad that Alayna didn’t wait for him, but seeing his cute little face made him forget about that. Roland stepped down from the stool as Devan was reaching to hug him.
“Hi, son! Happy birthday!”
“Can we go outside and watch clouds?”
“Whatever you want!”
They went to the outdoor living area to lie down and look at the sky. They stayed out there for hours just chatting away and bonding like a father and a son should. If you think Alayna may have been a little jealous, then you would be right. She liked that they were spending time together, really. But she thought that this little Sim with her nose and eye color would have at least said hello to her. She let it go, though, and resolved to spend as much time with him as she could the next day…and all the other days of his life. The rest of the weekend, if she wasn’t loving on him, then she was “encouraging” him with his drawing.
But, despite her attempts to try and win him over, Devan still preferred his father’s company. Devan was indeed a daddy’s boy.
Roland wasn’t really trying to be the favorite parent, but there was just an innate magnetic attraction between this father and son. Devan even wanted to get his hair cut like him. Every time Roland saw Devan, he melted like wax, and Devan could have whatever he wanted. When Alayna finally gave up and gave in to the fact that he wasn’t going to be a mama’s boy, she backed off a little, but not from her encouraging creative lessons–but maybe she should back off of those too…just a taste.
“Stay inside the lines, Devan! Nobody wants to see a rainbow with mixed colors.”
“More macaroni?! Sweet llamas, son! What is your fascination with macaroni?”
“Mamaaaa! Just let me do it!”
She thought she was helping him, but she was just frustrating him. He definitely surprised her. But, out of the corner of her eye, she saw all of her drawings on the wall from when she was his age. All of her early ones had macaroni on them too. She laughed to herself and felt bad for criticizing his work. If Devan was going to be a great artist like her one day (if he even chose to go that route), he was going to have to find his own inspiration, and she was going to have to let him do it.
“I’m sorry,” she said sweetly. “Go ahead and do it how you like.”
She backed away and watched him from behind going between the macaroni and glitter. When he was finished, she saw that his picture looked just like hers. Maybe he does have the chops for this, she thought.
“Come here, son,” she summoned. “I’m sorry I tried to tell you how to draw your picture. From now on, I want you to make whatever you want to make however you want to make it. Ok?”
“Cross my heart and hope to die. I was just trying to help. I want you to be really good…better than me!”
“You are the sweetest. Come here,” she said as she reached to hug him.
“You don’t have to die though,” he said.