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My Son's Christmas
🕑 Added 2017-12-21 17:00:00 +0000 UTC I'm a shitty father. This wasn't exactly new information either. I had been pretty shitty at everything I attempted to be - a brother, an employee, a husband. It just made sense that I sucked at parenting too. What worried me though was that my son seemed to have picked up some of my worst habits in the process and I knew that his mother doesn't approve.Beth and I divorced twelve years ago, when our son was five, and within three years she was married again. Ken was everything I'm not - a gym aficionado, a successful business and a genuinely good man. He didn't forget birthdays or anniversaries and treated Beth like a queen. It was really no wonder that she liked to pretend he's been her only husband. I was a bad stain on her history and we both know it.
Our son, Brandon, looked up to Ken as the father he never had and I resented both of them for it ever since I realized. I only had myself to blame, of course, because I never took the time or effort to be a role model for my son but when I was hitting rock bottom on the regular, Ken was providing for my son in ways I never could.
My jealousy at their relationship and the happy family unit they had created, even with Brandon's teenage rebellion, became all-consuming. Things were especially miserable around the festive season which I would once again be spending alone, just as I had for the past twelve years.
Jealousy drives people to desperate measures - I'm sure some of you can relate, even if you don't necessarily agree with my choice. I wasn't in my right mind but honestly... honestly I don't think I have any regrets. Okay, I'm being vague. I know, I'll stop being a pussy and fess up to what I did.
The morning Ken was coming to pick up my son I drew a rune on the palm of my hand, crept into his room and grabbed his hand while he slept. He jolted awake a moment later but by that moment the magic was forcing our hands together, preventing him from breaking free. Energy rushed throughout and between our bodies as our consciousnesses passed between the link and deposited us in the opposite body.
That's right, I purposefully switched bodies with my son simply so I didn't have to spend the festive season alone for the thirteenth year in a row.
I knew that my son would cause a fuss and immediately try to out my plans to his mother and step-father so I took quick action, knocking him out with a sleeper hold I had learned back in my days as a college wrestler. It wouldn't put him out for long but for at least long enough to do what I needed which was to keep him out of the way as I greeted good old Ken at the door and gladly stepped into the shotgun seat of his posh sports car. I never would have been able to afford a vehicle like that but my son got to ride in it whenever he wanted - hell, he was probably learning to drive in it too!
I'll admit it, there was a part of me that had always been jealous of Brandon. How could I not be when he was spoiled rotten by a step-father with more money than sense and treated like an angel by a woman who had once looked at me with those loving eyes? My life had been falling apart for years while Brandon's was building up into something great and... well, I hit my limit and I couldn't hold myself back.
Just hours later and there I was in Ken's oversized house, being treated like royalty. For the first time in decades I had a hot young body and the promise of actual carefree fun ahead of me. I spared a thought for Brandon who would no doubt be miserable and hopeless in my body but found myself unwilling to sympathize. After all, he had never shown much appreciation for how low I felt every Christmas season after his mother divorced me. Perhaps he should have been a more caring son!
Because I didn't want to leave him totally out in the cold this winter season, I made sure to send him a selfie so he could be assured that his body was being well treated. I couldn't understand why his response was so angry though. Wouldn't you say it looks like "Brandon" is having fun?
