Eleven: Oh, you’re back. Great.
Whoa there, tone down that excitement.
This picture is here purely to show you that Eleven is unwillingly skilling up her painting skill.
Eleven: You’ll notice that I am practicing my fashion concepts because I am a stylist.
Thanks, Eleven, for that revenge. As a side note: why on earth are self-wettings worth the same number of points as a birth?? This seems unfair, I tell you!
To add insult to injury, Eleven decided to go and clog the toilet.
Eleven: Someone seems to have broken the toilet!
You. It was you, Eleven, not someone.
Eleven: Well, because I am a good person, I will unclog it even though I am in no way responsible for this mess.
This family is doing very well.
Jon: I don’t need tickles! I need food!
Eleven: Stop! Crying! Child! Eleven tries to shove Jon’s face against her shoulder as a quieting technique. How’s that working for you, Eleven?
Eleven: Shhh I think it’s working!
On a brighter note, Jon maxed out all of his skills! I have 0 photos to prove this, but I do have a super official badge:
max toddler skills +5
I decided to throw a birthday party for Jon and invited everyone they knew.
Wait. What is this — could — could it be–?
Well, yes. I did. Because you were invisible the last we saw you (or failed to see you). Um, welcome back, Farquaad. Sorry for forcing you to move out? 😬 In my defense, I honestly did think you were a goner.
Farquaad: You’re dead to me. I’m only gracing you with my Ultra Strong Jaw™ because I heard my grandson was aging up.
It’s nice to see you again, too.
Nancy also shows up looking thoroughly unimpressed.
Nancy: I’ve brought some Mac and cheese. I spent two hours making sure the surface was perfectly flat. You better not ruin it.
Why is this family so mean.
Farquaad’s animosity, it seems, doesn’t extend to her daughter.
Farquaad: It’s not your fault I was banished unjustly, dear.
Eleven: Mom! I – I thought you were dead!
Farquaad: I will get vengeance for the both of us.
Jon is still a cute smush. I’ll miss seeing his lil face.
Jon: I can finally talk now!
Eleven: James, do you mind stepping back a few feet? You’re blowing spit onto my back.
Farquaad: This place is a hovel. I’m so disappointed that Jon has not inherited our lovely nose, Nancy.
Nancy: I am thoroughly unimpressed.
Farquaad: I’m out to plot my revenge!
But – but — Jon hasn’t even aged up yet!
Ah, the good ol’ cross eyed aging up face. As it turn out, James also had to leave before his son aged up because…
He’s going to work!!!!!
Finally. Please start contributing to the family funds so the Futures can move out of that one bedroom. Now that Jon is a child, we’re going to need another bed. And room. Another room would be nice.
James: *heart heart* Ooo I haven’t seen her around before.
NO. THIS IS NOT APPROPRIATE WORK ACTIVITY.
Morrigan: He cute.
Again: NO. Go back to being violent somewhere else.
Those swim trunks are, uh, very short.
I’ve also never understood the “only put sunscreen on one’s nose and upper cheeks” thing. Are your ears, shoulders/everything else somehow impervious to sun?
Good point, sir.
Then my screen zoomed back into the house and I panicked because I thought someone (Farquaad) had lit a fire or something.
Oh, nope, just labor.
Eleven: What do you mean, just labor???
And with that, goodbye for now!
Eleven: You’re going to leave me here??? For how long???