6/100: Gender Swap

Day 6: You wake up as the opposite gender. What are your immediate reactions? What do you notice that’s different, and how do you experience the outside world differently? Word Count: 500

Gender Swap: 
Walking effortlessly along the back of a mighty blue whale, high above the clouds, as I––then, cries.  Soft and muffled at first, then sharp and desperate.  My eyes burst open, the dream is gone.  I adjust to the dimly-lit rays of the dawn, streaming through the skylight above me.  It is morning, and our one-year old child is letting us know he's awake.

I roll to my left to wake up my wife, and nearly fall out of bed.  Catching myself on the nightstand, I push myself back onto the mattress and let out a chuckle.  Somehow we switched places in the night. I turn back around to let her know when I suddenly realize I'm in bed alone.  She must have woken up early for a morning run. I feel a twinge of resentment come over me as another cry fills the hall space between our bedrooms. I swing my feet over the edge of the bed and look down towards the floor. That's when I notice it.

My toenails are painted.  ...my toenails are painted?  What the hell?

Another impatient cry.  He heard me, the sly little devil. He'll be relentless now. Any chance of drifting back off to dreams of riding Falcor across the sky of La-La Land is a lost cause. I'm awake, I'm awake...and apparently someone had a bit of fun with me while I slept.  As I stumble out of bed and down the hall to little Damian's room, sweet thoughts of revenge swell up through my mind.  I can't help but wonder, what other stunt did she pull while I was dead asleep last night?

I open the door to our child's room and am greeted with huge, eager smiles.  Usually he's more interested in seeing his Mommy first, but today appears to be an exception.  I gleefully pick him up out of bed and carry him downstairs to prepare our breakfast. Strangely enough, he seems heavier than usual.

We proceeded through our normal breakfast routine of cereal and sliced bananas as the white noise of the morning news played in the background. It wasn't until I reached for my coffee, that I truly noticed it––my hand. It wasn't mine. I stared at it, not sure what to think. It seemed surreal, but there it was; my wife's left hand, wedding ring and all, clear as day. My stomach lurched into my throat.  "What was happening?  How could this be?" I thought.  I rushed into the bathroom and flipped on the light, only to find that I was staring at not myself, but my wife's reflection in the mirror.

Panic set in. Beads of clammy sweat formed above my brow. I felt sick, nervous. I didn't know what to do. That's when I heard it.  One, simple word.

"Mommy?"

Instantly, my reflection didn't matter. The panic was gone. Our son needed his Mom. Stepping out of the bathroom, we exchanged smiles. Only his needs mattered.  Everything else would be sorted out in time.