Ken Madison was a stay-at-home dad. A lot of guys would've felt their masculinity threatened by such a position, but he knew his wife didn't think any less of him, and he actually rather enjoyed the job. It could be a hassle sometimes, but he still liked it better than working. When he and his wife Tina had their second child, Zoe, thirteen years ago, Ken had been working a cubicle job, which he hated. Number-crunching was something he was good at, and he didn't actually mind doing it, but slaving away at a desk all day and still being just another faceless drone in a suit to his bosses was soul-deadening. He'd come home from work one day when Zoe was about a year old and complained to Tina that he was just about at the end of his rope. She'd half-sarcastically suggested that he try doing her job, which surprised him. As it turned out, she'd been reluctant to tell him that, as much as she loved her children, she just didn't feel the full-time mom thing was right for her.
It took a lot of agonizing before they finally decided to try switching roles. But Zoe was finally on solid foods, and the Grim Layer-Off was making the rounds at Ken's employer, and one day Tina spotted an opening at a real-estate brokerage in the area. They'd taken the plunge, and after a rocky start it had turned out to work pretty well. Ken wasn't enthusiastic about keeping house, but he was a handy sort of guy, and at least he was working for people who actually appreciated what he was doing. And Tina was glad to be back in the workplace, and never missed an opportunity to let her husband know how much she...appreciated his flexibility.
Of course, it wasn't all kicking back on the couch with a beer and a DVD. Like the times some jerkass at a neighborhood cook-out would make some disparaging comment about him for daring to run a household differently than they did. Or now, when all three of his children were screaming like Mike Meyers (either one) had turned up in their respective closets. Ken raced upstairs to see what was the matter. He was met at the top of the stairs by three children, only they didn't seem to be his. There was a boy about Zoe's age, a boy about Jon's age, and a girl about Mikey's age, but his kids were nowhere in sight. "Who are you?" he asked. "How did you get into my house?"
He was answered by the jumbled sound of all three replying at once. "Okay, let's try that again, one at a time. You," he said, pointing at the little girl, "who are you?"
"I'm Jon," she replied, in a trembling, high-pitched voice. Ken frowned. "No you're not. Okay," and he pointed at the thirteen-year-old boy, "who are you?"
"I'm Zoe," he answered. "Although I suppose you're not going to believe that, either."
Ken nodded. "Correct. Now, last but not least, who are you?"
"Mikey," the older boy replied. Ken groaned. "No, you're n-" He stopped. It was Mikey, only older; it was almost like he was looking at his face from about twenty-five years ago. "It is you!" he exclaimed. "What...what in God's name is going on?"
"I dunno," Mikey replied. "I was just goofing off, and this suddenly happened."
"Yeah," the boy who claimed to be Zoe said. "Same here." The two boys looked at the little girl who had said she was Jon.
"Well," she said, "I got home and went to use the computer, and there was a post-it note stuck to the monitor. I read it, and there was a wish written on it, and I threw it away and then mumbled the wish to myself, and then...it said 'I wish I'd switch genders with a random member of my family, and ages with another member,' and I did, dammit!"
Ken almost reprimanded the girl for using language like that, but if what she said was true, then he could hardly blame her, and Jon was too old for him to be scolding about minor swear words. "Look," he said, "I...well, you're undoubtedly Mikey," he said, indicating the older boy, "and I guess I believe you two," he said to the younger boy and the girl, "for now. But...this note, where is it?"
"In the wastebasket by the computer," the little girl said. "But don't read it! What if it does the same thing to you?"
Ken sighed. "I'll take that chance," he said. "I want some evidence to support this crazy story." He made his way to the computer room, fished out the little crumpled note from the wastebasket, and unfolded it.
"God," he exclaimed. "Well, that part's true, anyway." He stared at the note, and the children watched with bated breath, but he didn't seem compelled to read it. He folded it up and put it in his pocket; the writing seemed familiar, but now wasn't really the time to analyze it. "Well," he said, "I guess I believe you, but we're going to have a hell of a time explaining this to your mother."
**** *
Tina stepped off the bus. It was a hassle walking home from the bus stop, but with gas prices the way they were, it was a lot cheaper than driving to work. She was just lucky she worked an office job; the poor agents at her work had felt the pinch far worse than she had, with all the driving their job required. She turned and walked towards her home, but after about a block she noticed something stuck on one of the lampposts...
