As the family slept, the stone was working its magic.
"Good morning, mom!" Jon awoke to a chorus of his siblings. "Happy mothers day!" He groggily looked up to see his father, Mikey, Zoe and a girl he realized used to be his mother - Joan, was her name now - standing above him. Joan was holding a breakfast tray, and Mikey a small gift-wrapped present. "Good morning, dear," his father said to him. "Me and the kids figured that, since you're such a good housewife the remaining 364 days of the year, you deserve one day a year where we make you breakfast." He bent down and kissed him.
The realization of how the wish had been interptreted started to sink in. With his former mother becoming young again, someone had to take her role in the household, and since she had become Jons age, the stone seemed to have picked him. He had become his own mother.
Well, not exactly. Actually, she was quite different. She had the same name, Rebecca, was the same age, 33, though she had been born 10 days before her mother, had the same parents, and had married the same man, but after that, the differences began to emerge. His mom had excelled at school, while the new Rebecca had been mediocre. Despite having had children at an early age, his mother had become a successful business woman, taking evening courses to complete a degree at 27. He, no, she, had become a housewife. And his mother used to be the boss around the house - in this new reality, Rebecca deferred to her husband and fully accepted that the man of the house had the authority. In fact, she had come to enjoy it that way.
The new Rebecca felt oddly at ease with this new situation. It felt right, in a way. And, she thought, if I find I don't like it, I can always wish myself back.
As the kids served her her breakfast, she answered them smilingly: "Thank you, dears. You are the best kids a mother could have. And you, my love, are the best husband I could ever hope to get!"
