Better Care Of Your Toys

"I don't think so. All whole bunch of things have come out of your mouth today that just aren't right." Jon gripped the stone and thought. "I wish Karyn as this doll could talk when she wanted if and only if no one over the age of five could hear her. I wish my mom would spend the remainder of her sentence as being five not ten, and that Karyn was her toy. I wish that until that sentence ended, my mom was Karyn's mom's daughter, no one will remember any different until my mom is normal again, and that my mom would take Karyn to school for show and tell. If Karyn says enough to raise adult eyebrows, mom will say her inventor uncle put some special chip in it."
With an audible hum the stone vibrated badly, glowing white hot and burning Jon's palm and digits to the bone, his fingers involuntarily clenching it. Blinded by pain, he didn't notice the faint pop as his mother and best friend vanished. He rushed his hand to the kicthen sink and quenched the smoking ruin of his hand. He slumped to the floor, and sobbed for one long moment.
"I wish my hand healed perfectly in just one second." With a buzz it was done.
Jon, you've had one hell of day. Think carefully. "I wish the body I had before I ever touched the stone was my baseline body and that irrespective of any wishes I make, or any one else makes, that in no more than a year I successfully transform back in to that body, unless I make a wish to the contrary while holding the written or other wise recorded wish in my hand, this wish not to erase any emotional maturity or insight or knowledge I might gain in the future." Yelping as the stone again scorched his hand, he carefully dropped to the mat beneath.
Self, its been one hell of a day. Time to go to bed and see what tommorrow brings.