Kinky Stuff

She should really be freaking out, Mark thought, Why isn't she freaking out?

It's not every day that you find your son transformed into a doppelganger of yourself, but for some reason, after that initial fainting spell, Mark's mother was taking the whole incident as if it was an every day occurance.

"What about something like this?" Mark's beautiful red-headed mother smiled and held up a flower-print skirt and a white blouse, "I always look lovely in it, and so will you."

"Mom," Mark responded, "I'm not really in the play dress-up mood! Look at me!"

"Oh nonsense!" his mother chided, "You're just worried that you don't know how to dress your new body. Thank heaven you have me!"

Mark stared at his mother, dumbfounded, as she returned to her closet to pick out another outfit. She had actually began humming a tune, as if she were enjoying her task. Was she in shock? What was going on?!

"Aubrey, what was all that screaming before?" Mark turned to the door of his parent's bedroom and saw his father walking into the room. Finally, someone would be able to see how screwed up this situation was!

"What in the..." Mark's dad said, staring wide-eyed at the two versions of his wife, one dressed in his son's pajamas.

"Dad! I can explain. I mean, I can't explain, but..."

"Oh honey! I'm so sorry I didn't call down to you earlier," Mark's mother intercepted her husband in the doorway, "Mark's had a little accident and has somehow been changed."

"What do you mean?! Do you mean this woman... this... you... is him?!"

Mark smiled through his mother's puffy lips. He knew he shouldn't be enjoying his father's discomfort, but it felt like a confirmation that he himself hadn't gone crazy.

"Of course it is, silly!" Mark's mother laughed, patting her husband's shoulder, "Who else would it be?"

"I don't know what's going on here, but if that's true, we need to call someone!"

Mark didn't like the sound of that. The last thing he wanted was to spend the rest of his life in a lab being poked, prodded, even probed. Images of dissections and medical experiments flashed through his imagination.

"Dad, wait," Mark said, approaching his father, "Maybe we don't have to call anyone. Maybe we can just figure it out ourselves."

Mark locked eyes with his father, and noticed that the older man began to look dizzy.

"Dad, are you okay?"

Briefly, Mark's father bend at the waist, eyes closed, rubbing the back of his neck. Mark's mother ran over to him in concern.

"I'm okay, I'm okay," he said, straightening up, batting his wife away, "Just dizzy. It's already passed. Now, what were you saying?"

"I was saying that maybe we can figure out what happened without having to call someone," Mark continued, still finding is strange to hear his mother's voice from his mouth, "Maybe we can keep this, you know, in the family. What do you think, dad?"

Mark's dad considered this for a moment, then smiled.

"I don't see why we can't," his baritone voice said softly, "In fact, I think I overreacted to the whole thing. Sorry for alarming you."

"Overreacted?" Mark repeated, bewildered.

"Of course overreacted!" Mark's dad laughed, "I mean, nothing a good change of clothes and a good breakfast can't solve. It is, after all, the most important meal of the day."

"Breakfast?! Dad, are you feeling okay?!"

"Oh, and maybe it's time you started calling me Alex," Mark's dad said, "That whole dad thing... I'm not really into that kinky stuff."