Victoria looked down at herself. What she saw was the form of a mature woman, wearing a woman's blouse, a tight black miniskirt, pantyhose, and a pair of 3-inch heels. This isn't possible, she thought. I'm supposed to be a little girl. She looked at the little girl next to her. Mom?
Patti was doing the same thing in reverse. "You're not my mom," she said, softly.
Victoria looked at her. "You...I'm not going crazy?" She whispered.
Patti looked at her blankly. "It's magic," she said. "Did you wish to be a grownup or something?" She asked.
"That's ridiculous. There's no such thing as magic."
"Nuh-uh...look at us," Patti insisted.
Victoria frowned. Why is my mom acting like such a... The word came into her mind. Child...which is what she is.
"Switch us back?" Patti said. "I want to be the mom again."
Victoria sighed. "I don't know how, sweetie," she said. "We might be stuck like this."
"Don't call me sweetie," Patti said, shrilly.
Victoria looked at her sternly. "Patricia," she tried. "I don't think you can be the mother anymore."
"What? Why?"
"I don't think you know how anymore."
The girl frowned. "Yeah, I do."
"You can't even drive us home," she said, kneeling down. "I didn't wish for this, or ask for this...but only one of us is a grownup right now."
"You're not really a grownup..."
"What's the square root of 25?" Victoria said, calmly. "Who was the 40th president of the United States?" She got blank looks. "Where do babies come from?" Patti began to cry at that, and Victoria wrapped her arms around her comfortingly. "I'm sorry...everything will be all right." She whispered.
