"We both switched bodies and I think you know it, but you're pretending that we haven't for some reason," your father says firmly.
"I don't know, son," you grin broadly, leaning back on the bench and stretching your arms nonchalantly. "Sounds like wooly-headed nonsense to me. All this supernatural, paranormal stuff, aren't you getting a little old for that rubbish?" Those are his words exactly, repeated verbatim, except with a big, giveaway, shit-eating grin on your face.
He throws his hands up in surrender. "Okay, fine! I take it back. I apologise. Perhaps some of what you said was true."
""Some"???"
"This is true. That stuff about the spaceship landing in the back yard is still bullshit. Now would you please tell me what the hell is going on."
So you do. He listens intently as you explain the discovery of the bowl and the instructions. He seems relieved once you finished, reassured that the process is reversible.
"Hey ,wait a minute!" Suddenly he punches you on the arm. "That's for kissing my wife."
"I didn't hear any complaints," you retort smugly.
"What's that supposed to mean?!"
"You saw. Clearly she was loving it," you goad him. "Besides, she's always saying how you need to express yourself more."
"She is? She told you that?"
"Uh... yeah. Didn't she tell you?"
He shakes his head, visibly concerned by this revelation. The two of you still in silence for a while, your father lost in thought, you lost in the sight of a woman in pants so tight they could be painted on.
"I think we should stay swapped this way for a few days," he says seriously after a while. "Clearly there are things your mother feels she can share with you but not with me... If that's alright with you."
"Uh, sure, whatever," you mutter, your eyes jiggling along with the breasts of a young jogger.
"Some ground rules, however. Absolutely no kissing."
"What if she kisses me first?"
"In that event... fine. But no tongues. Agreed?"
"Ew. Agreed."