The heatwave continues. I don’t know how Mom can deal with syrupy pancakes for breakfast, I opted for fruit salad and it was the best.

Dad spends most of the day playing with our sprinkler system.

Nounou, though he looks blasé as ever, is also enjoying the water.

Dad’s still a kid at heart.

He does go out to check the mail. I sort of wish he wouldn’t show his silly blue straw hat to the outside world, but he is a dad after all.

I’ve received a few more packages of ancient items to authenticate for the museum.

I don’t envy Cyril and Cleo, having to go to school under this heat. Don’t get me wrong, I love heat, but…

I’m happy I’m able to make the most of the sun napping by the swimming pool instead.

After unearthing the Humor and Hijinks fireworks from the attic, I sort of want to explore such an event myself — and I mean not as a fetus.

And what do you know? That very day I get a SimBook notification about an event in the Arts District… The Humor and Hijinks festival is in town! I don’t even take the time to change, and happily drag my siblings out and straight to San Myshuno.

Unfortunately, while the sun is shining bright in Newcrest… San Myshuno is experiencing a thunderstorm. And we all forgot our umbrellas, but you know what? We’ll still make the most of the day.

A whole crowd of people surprised by the rain. One of the festival-goers went ahead and stripped down to shower in the rain. Someone’s not quite sober from Pride Day yet.

“Come on Cyril, chin up! We’re going to have a great time!”

“Speak for yourself, ban-Hannah, I’m going inside the Art Gallery.”

“Since when do you care about art?”

“I really don’t, I just want shelter.”

I run across Mom’s friend Shanna, who doesn’t mind the rain or fear it might damage her guitar. I can barely hear her over the rain, but it’s magical.

When she’s done, I finally rush to the colorful stands and stalls of the festival. I have a choice to make between two mystical types of tea. The light or the dark, the jokes or the mischief.

I could go for mischief. It tastes like guava and grape, in an odd but fun combination. And it’s steaming hot, which is perfect in this weather.

Its effects are also automatic. I don’t know what’s in it exactly, but I find myself explaining to festival-goers that I’m actually at the head of the San Myshuno mafia.

We take the opportunity to discover some of the city’s flavors at the food stalls. Cleo is not quite sure what she likes.

She’s also not a fan of having to choose food while being soaked in the cold, cold rain.

I am, though. I am loving this atmosphere.

The festival is over and the twins are now both warming up inside the Art Gallery, but I’m still enjoying the weather.

Enjoying it a lot.

Mom and Dad had fireworks in the attic — they had been sitting there from back when they lived in the Spice Market. As Mom handed them to me, she smiled softly.

“We bought these at the Humor and Hijinks festival over twenty years ago.”

“Wow, these are some oooold fireworks!”

She laughed.

“You have no idea! You were there, too, actually. You didn’t know it but you were there, kicking around in my belly.”

I don’t just kick around is someone else’s belly now, so I’m the one to light up the first fireworks.

It’s the last of our Pride Day activities!

Now we can enjoy the pretty lights. Maybe my love for fireworks did stem from hearing them back before I was born.

We’re the only ones in the neighborhood to have gone as far as actually breaking out the fireworks, but the whole neighborhood can see them.

Mom almost burnt down the house trying to turn on the second set of fireworks, but she only got singed a tiny bit. Cyril stepped up to clean up the ashes and burn marks.

And then we’re off to bed. This was our first time celebrating Pride Day, and it was a pretty freaking fun day.