How I Became Your Father

"Doesn't it smell good in here?" Deondre asked, a lecherous grin on his face. And it might have smelled good in the house we shared if there hadn't been a bra hanging from the curtain rod.

"Smells like teen spirit." I spun on my heel and stormed out of the house. As if by cue, the door slammed shut a second time behind me. I squared my shoulders, ready for the battle that was about to come. His typical excuse was that because I was a woman, I didn't understand what happens when a man finds someone attractive. Like there was no way to control himself because Mr. Happy controlled the brain.

"Why is you acting so crazy, bitch?"

"You slept with someone else. And I'm supposed to turn a blind eye?"

"I've explained to you..."

"NOTHING ELSE MATTERS!" Every time our voices got louder, more and more people looked out their windows at us.

Legend around the neighborhood was that the lady who lived across the street from us was a witch, and often meddled in other people's affairs with magic. It seemed preposterous but as she waved her hands around like a crazy person, lightning came crashing out of the sky. It hit the ground between us.

"I'm a woman!" The words came out of my mouth but I didn't say them. Crap that witch, pulled some Freaky Friday shit on us.
"I'm Every Woman."

Deondre accentuated the last statement by using my hands to grope my breasts. I used his hands to slap mine off my body. "Stop that. For Pete's sake, that Witch switched our bodies."

"Not my problem. I'm going to find me some hot lesbians to have fun with!" He sauntered off, and the only thing I could think was 'Damn, I have a nice butt.' It felt weird to think that but then being inside my ex-boyfriend's body was weird too.

He peeled his car out of the driveway, blasting the song "Can't Feel My Face" by The Weeknd. Since Deondre had no intention of figuring out what was going on, I figured it wouldn't hurt to grab a beer until he figured everything out.

"What can I get you, Bro?" it took me a second to realize that the bartender was talking to me. It's different than being called beautiful.

"Just a beer." None of the guys in the bar had even looked my way. How rude could they be? Sure, I was a guy but they could at least catcall about what a nice butt I had. The bartender stood still for a second, and for some reason it occurred to me that I should shoot back his term of endearment. "Bro."

I spun my head around, to look at the bar. There was a couple fighting near the exit of the bar. She was trying so hard to be fierce, but was failing harder than Katie Couric's talk show. I heard her say, "These boots are made for walking
."

"Please use them to walk away the f--" He didn't finish the sentence because she walked away from him. I turned back to the bar and found a beer waiting for me.

As the golden liquid splashed down my rented throat, I started wondering how to fix the current situation. Going to the Witch could result in making matters worse. She could switch me with Donald Trump. No thank you.

"Can you get me a beer?" It was the voice of Ms. Tough Guy. I turned to say yes and I noticed how beautiful she was. Her eyes were puffy and her nose was red from the crying but the rest of her was perfect. My pants got tighter in the most inappropriate places.

"How about I get you something better?" What kind of pick up line was that? It worked though because she was on her tip toes kissing me. "Let's get out of here."

She led me by my hand, we stopped for a brief second so she could glare at her ex. We made it to my car and as I started driving, her head disappeared between my legs. My mind wasn't on driving, so I stopped at the first place I seen. It was a pay by the hour hotel.

After a few minutes of fumbling around and trying to figure out how a man's body works. Seriously, I want a tutorial. We were naked in the bed and she seemed to be enjoying herself. She kept saying things like "You're the greatest", "You're the best", and "You're so big."

The last one seemed offensive. While Deondre was no toothpick, he wasn't exactly the Marshmallow Man either. I decided to let it roll off because there was an ethereal feeling after my orgasm.

Ms. Tough Guy has fallen asleep and was snoring lightly. I grabbed the jeans and shirt closest to me. I nearly fell over trying to get my foot in the hole. I'm not proud of how long it took me to realize that they belonged to my one night lover. After I got dressed, I hightailed it out of the room and sped away in my car.

Why did I run away from that girl? I was supposed to be old and wise. The penis made me stupid. There was no doubt about that.

3 months later

"Deondre, you can't just call me over..." I noticed Ms. Tough Guy crying on the couch.

"Golde, please explain to this crazy bitch that I did not have sex with her."

"Then how did I get pregnant?" She threw a pillow at Deondre. "I had to use Private Investigations

to find this deadbeat."

"I am not the father!"

"I think I can explain." I launched into the story that I would have to tell over and over. "A Witch made us switch bodies, and I ran into you. We had sex."

"I'm pregnant with a woman's baby?"

Never understood why it was hard to understand for people.