Chapter Description: Images for this story can be found at the following web...... https://sites.google.com/view/comedy-ars-characters/home
I was sorry that I had to threaten the ‘nuclear’ option so soon. I wasn’t fond of the idea of caring for a baby and changing diapers, so hopefully I would be able to keep a cap on the water bottle. I returned to see Sam in the smaller bedroom. There was much to discuss.
Sam greeted me with a formal military salute, “Awaiting your orders, Captain Mommy, sir.”
“A simple address of ‘Mom’ will be sufficient, I told him.”
“Is that all you’ve got to say, Mom?” he replied in a tone as cold as ice.”
“Sam, we need to decide what we’re going to do first. We do need to go grocery shopping again since the frig is empty. We need to decide what to tell your dad. And I think we should probably sign up with another gym to test out our new bodies.”
The boy had apparently ignored my words. He grabbed his laptop computer and was about to leave the room.
“Hey Sam, what are you doing?”
“I’m switching back our computers. Mine’s in the big bedroom.”
I moved to block the doorway. “Oh no, no, no,” I told him. “That’s the adult computer, and I don’t want you looking at pornography. You’re an eleven-year-old boy now and that kind of material is not appropriate for you.”
The boy bared his teeth and stomped his foot. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me, Derrek!” he yelled. “All you’re doing is getting back at me because I wouldn’t let you look at porn. And all my psychology work is on that laptop.”
I looked down at the boy. “Sam, I’ll agree that there is such a thing as a child psychologist, but there is no such thing as a child who IS a psychologist.”
“But those are all my papers,” the boy pleaded.
I countered, “Those are confidential records that don’t belong in the hands of child … I’ll decide later what to do with them.” Then I pointed at Sam’s crotch. “It’s funny that every time I call you a child now, you get an erection.”
“Shut up, Derrek!” the boy lashed out again, as he placed the laptop in front of his groin.
“Sam, I don’t want to start off your day with a spanking, but you need to check your attitude at the door and leave it there.”
“You’re not the boss of me, Derrek,” he grumbled.
“Well, the water bottle says I am, and if you don’t want me to use it, then you need to start behaving in a civil manner, first off by addressing me as ‘Mom’. When we’re out in public, that’s how it has to be … and at home too.”
He practically spat out his reply, “Fine, Mommmmmmmmmm.”
I pointed to the pc unit. “Put the laptop gently back on your desk, please. And if you’d like to jack off now, I can leave the room.”
A single tear dropped from the boy’s eye. “Stop patronizing me about my penis. I’ll do it when I want to.”
“Sam, I think we need to air ourselves out. Let’s go get some breakfast … And by the way, I’m driving the Porsche.”
The boy snapped his head up. “I didn’t say that you were allowed to drive my Porsche.”
I stopped and gave him a long look … and finally asked, “WHO’s the adult here?”
He looked away from me and grumbled, “Try not to wrap it around a tree. And you’ll need my driver’s license in my wallet. You know I never carry a purse.”
I decided to drive us to Bob Evans again. We needed time to just relax … to sit across from each other and just talk in a non-hostile environment, where we were less likely to scream in public.
The boy put down his menu and spoke quietly. “I’m trying to placate you. So my answer is ‘Sure, Mom … with strawberries, sausage, scrambled eggs, and milk … That’s spelled m-i-l-k’.”
I nodded. “You’ve got quite an appetite.”
“Boys are always hungry, Mom. But I guess you already know that.”
“Sam, what do you think your dad will say when he finds out what’s happened to us?”
“Oh, can I get a glass of tomato juice too, please?”
“I wouldn’t go rushing to tell my dad anything right now. Paul still doesn’t believe you have a water curse … which became my curse now.”
“Well, we’ll have to tell him at some point. He’s our emergency backup. Do you think he’ll be happy to have a son?”
“Derrek, I mean … Mom … Once Paul gets over his initial shock, and we convince him that we’ve switched bodies, he’ll still love me unconditionally. That’s just the way he is.”
I shook my head. “Paul’s going to have a hard time looking at me after this, Sam. He’s going to think that I took his real child away from him. This muscular woman is an imposter. He’ll dislike me very much.”
“You’re wrong, Mom. Paul is too laid back to hate anyone … except maybe his ex.”
“Your biological mother?”
“Yeah, she blamed Paul for me being messed up in my head gender-wise. She accused him of having defective sperm, and so she didn’t want to have any more kids with him. So she left. Paul obviously felt guilty that maybe it was his fault, so he’s been showering me with love ever since.”
“So now that you’ve got boy parts, your old mom can return and everyone can live happily ever after.”
Sam rolled his eyes. “Yeah, right.”
Our meal arrived and we dug right in. I talked with food in my mouth. “So Sam, can you recommend another gym for us … one that’s not managed by a guy named ‘Andrew’?”
The boy actually gave me a little bit of a smile. “Mom, I’m sure Andrew’s throat has healed by now … unless you want to give him a ‘booster’.”
“No, I’m actually looking for a place that caters to people who read ‘Workouts for Dummies’. I’m seriously afraid of injuring this Lamborghini body.”
“Mom, there are plenty of places that will be happy to take our money … and I can show you the ropes … and the barbells and the machines. We should stop back home and get our workout clothes. Are you ready for some pain?”
I shook my head. “I knew there was a catch.”
“Mom, stop being so wimpy.”
I couldn’t get over how eerie it felt looking at this boy and ‘talking to myself’.
We got our gear and set out again. Sam was very critical about the way I handled his expensive car.
“Good job, Mom … the Buffalo slide … speed up on yellow, slide through on red.”
I retorted, “It was still yellow when I entered the intersection.”
“Not according to the cop.”
“The one who’s pulling you over.”
I glanced at my mirror. Indeed, his red and blue lights were flashing. “Oh shit, not what I was looking for this morning.” I stopped by the curb, turned off the car, put my wallet on my lap, rolled down the driver’s window, and placed my hands on the 10 o’clock / 2 o’clock positions on the steering wheel. Hopefully this would keep me from getting tased.
“Good morning, officer,” I greeted him.
The policeman bent his head down toward my window. “Do you know why I pulled you over, Ma’am?”
From the passenger seat, Sam blurted out, “My mom likes to go through red lights, officer. She thinks she owns the road just cuz’ she drives a Porsche.”
“Shut up, Sam!” I hissed at him.
The officer took out his ticket book. “Ma’am, your son knew the correct answer … driver’s license please.”
I handed the officer what for me, was a fake ID. He bobbed his head several times glancing up and down between my face and the photo on the license.
Finally, he said, “Ma’am, I am so sorry.”
Sam piped up again. “Are you going to put my mom in jail, officer? You’ll have to watch her close. She’s an escape artist like Houdini.”
In frustration, I looked at Sam and ran my thumb and forefinger across my lips giving him the signal to ‘zip it’. I did not want to be arrested.
The policeman seemed to be wiping his eyes … Was he crying?
“Ma’am, are you the same Sammantha Adams who’s a psychologist, the one who wrote that ‘Freak’ book?”
That was unexpected. “Why, yes I am,” I lied.
Now the officer was bawling like a baby and he said, “Dr. Adams, a few years ago, my son was 16 and in a very bad way. We thought we might lose him. But my wife and I were able to convince him to try your therapy sessions and group meet-ups. He even read your book.”
I started crying some, myself. So did Sam.
“Today, he’s a freshman at Cornell and he made the dean’s list. I just want to say thank you. And take my card too. I’m George. If you ever need a ticket fixed, you call me … and bless you Dr. Adams.”
I turned and whispered to Sam, “Thank you Dr. Adams.”
Stories of Age/Time Transformation