Jon was shocked when he entered the kitchen. His mother was standing in front of the stove stirring a pot. Well, his mother's body was. Her face, however, framed by her long brown hair, was not his mother's.
The five-o'clock shadow was his first clue. The rugged chin, bigger nose and thick eyebrows came soon after. She definitely had a man's face. The man-face smiled at him.
"Jon, nice of you to join us," her voice was the same, soft, motherly, "help your sister set the table."
He turned to grab some plates and saw his sister standing there, grabbing some silverware. Her body was the same, but her face was that of a teenage boy's. She had the makings of some new growth on her upper lip and acne. Not a hint of make-up adorned her visage. Jon chuckled.
"What's so funny?" Zoe shot at him.
"Nothing," he answered, attempting to stifle his laughter.
She rolled her eyes and turned back toward the dining room. He followed her, wondering what he should swap next.
