Goth Mom

While I was in the upstairs bathroom with Jean, my mother Denise was downstairs watching TV, as I ordered.

She worried that, despite the fact she was my mother, she couldn't work up enough courage to put her foot down and try to control my actions. She had always been a timid person (or so she thought now), but still ... she was a mother. She should at least TRY to act like it.

As she sat in the front of the TV (which was currently showing some cooking show), though, things began to change again. Of course, she didn't notice.

Denise's skin turned a bit more pale, her hair turned black with streaks of blue, her lipstick turned black, her nail polish turned midnight blue, and her clothing changed, becoming a black tube top over a fishnet shirt, a black leather miniskirt, ripped fishnet stockings, and black knee-high buckled boots with four-inch stacks. The only thing that didn't really change, though, was her age.

She sneered towards the TV. "What the hell is this shit anyway? A cooking show? Fuck that," she said, changing the channel to one that showed a heavy metal music video. "That's more like it."

Back upstairs, I felt exhausted. I had just made my mother more likable by turning her into a Goth. Now we had a lot more in common and would get along better. I considered making her bisexual too, but that last change really knocked the wind out of me. I think I might need to rest a while.