How was my day? You wouldn’t believe me if I told you (repost)

I was appalled as I stared unblinking in the mirror. My husband kept biting his lips not to laugh, clearly unfazed and, unbelievably entertained.

“How can you laugh?” I asked in my new baritone. He burst out laughing again.

“How can you not laugh? This is priceless. All these years I’ve always said you were more like a guy than a woman and now, here we are.”

“Not funny! You were talking about my attitude not…not… this!” I shouted, cringing at the sound of my voice and the new appendage staring back at me in the mirror.

“But you bringin’ sexy back, yeah!” he started singing Timberlake’s old song and wiggling his hips.

“Are you nuts??? How are we going to explain this to people? What will we tell Tommy? Hey sweetie, Mom woke up a man this morning. But don’t worry, she’s…he’s…still your mom. What the heck? And what about my mom? She’s going to flip.”

“Tommy will be fine. You know him. He takes everything in stride. And your mom doesn’t know who you are anyway any more so what difference does it make?"

“Not funny.”

“Wasn’t trying to be funny, babe. It’s the truth.” He put his arm around me. He was still bigger than me. I had a nice build, but I was a little guy. LOL. A little guy. “We’ll get through this. I mean, you woke up and boom, beard and balls. Maybe you’ll wake up tomorrow and it will be boom, boobs are back.” He tried not to laugh. Unsuccessfully.

“We can only hope,” I sighed. “In the meantime, what do we do?”

“Go with the flow, babe. Act like everything is normal.”

“I am NOT having sex with you!”

“Hahahahaha! You’re not my type, babe. Sorry. No offense.” He kissed my cheek. “I kind of get why you always want me to shave before I kiss you.”

He started laughing again.

“Shut. Up.” I left the bathroom. “I’m going to the gym.”

“Hey,” he shouted as he turned on the shower. “Watch out for the women! You’re a real hottie. Fresh meat!”

I slammed the bedroom door.

And then I immediately opened it, running back to the bathroom.

“I can’t go to the gym! This body does not have a membership there.”

Hoots from behind the shower curtain.

“Give me a sec. I’ll bring you as a guest and then go to work from there. Okay?”

“Who am I? I have no ID as this, this…aaaaaah!” I ended on a groan.

“We’ll say you’re your brother and you were robbed while clubbing last night and don’t have any ID right now.”

“I don’t have a brother!”

“Babe, you’re also not a guy most of the time,” he cracked up laughing again.

“Maybe I’ll just stay home and try to sleep and see if I’m me again when I wake up.”

He turned off the water.

“Don’t give in to the invisible forces at work! Take the bull by the horns! Go out there and live it up as a guy!” He said as he toweled off. “Look at it as an opportunity to see how the other half lives. Haven’t you ever wondered what it would be like to be a guy?”

I rolled my eyes. “You wouldn’t be this chipper if you woke up as a woman.”

“Maybe, maybe not. But that’s not what we’re dealing with here.” He put his hands on my shoulder. “Don’t worry, babe. Everything will be fine.”

Then he hugged me. My little guy woke up. Awkward!

“Oh my god!” I screeched (a baritone man screech), pushing my husband away.

“I’m sorry, hon,” he said practically crying from laughing so hard as he walked into our bedroom. “You’ll have to learn to control that.” More laughter. “Think about, puppies and kittens and babies or something.”

“I hate you!” I said.

“Clearly, you love me,” he replied, gagging on his laughter.

He got me into the gym no problem. Everyone at the front desk was really nice to my brother, telling me what a nice sister I have, always smiling and cheerful. It was pleasantly weird and then awkward when one said, “I thought Gabrielle was an only child?”

“Ha ha,” I respond, “she probably likes to think so, but, no such luck. She’s stuck with me.”

It got worse.

I have always prided myself on being able to appreciate both feminine and masculine beauty. I soon discovered that that may not be something you do when you’re new to being a man. Or ever as a man. Think adolescent boy in front of a class at school, his crush smiles at him and all of a sudden, his pants have a tent out front. Yep. The hottest woman at the gym walked by in what anyone else would consider lycra underwear, breasts spilling out of the top, hanging over a six pack belly. I smiled as she walked by and felt a little tingly down below. She looked at me like she ate something nasty and kept walking. At the same time, I realized the tingling was more like a rush…and I immediately put my gym bag in front of me, surely eight shades of purple at this point.

I walk/ran to the locker room, oops, sorry ladies, turned around and ran into the men’s locker room and sat on the nearest bench. Puppies, kittens, babies, puppies, kittens, babies.

“You okay, dude?”

I look up, and the sex god of the gym is standing in front of me. Naked. Well hung does not begin to describe what I was looking at. Directly in front of me. I dragged my eyes upward and said, “Yeah, thanks.”

“You sure? You look a little uptight. You need to relax some. I’m heading to the sauna. Want to come with?”

At which point I notice that he is GROWING right before my eyes. Sex god is gay?!?! Inside I squeal and think there would be some really disappointed women in the gym. At the same time, I grab my bag, scoot up and away from IT, and say, “Uh, no, but thanks, really. I’m not a fan of saunas. But, um, have a good time. Bye!” the last said as I ran out the door.

I managed to run ten miles on the treadmill, stretch and leave the gym without any more mishaps. Thank god.

As per my usual, I stopped at Starbucks on my way home.

“Hey, Chris!” I said to my favorite barista.

“Hey,” he replied politely to the stranger that was me. I forgot.

“I’ll have a grande hot chocolate, please.”

“Right away. That will be $4.57.”

I show him the app on my phone. He scans it. Then he looks at me suspiciously. “Whose phone is that?”

“Mine,” I say.

“I don’t think so,” he says a little menacingly.

Oh, right. “I should say, it’s my sister’s. She loaned it to me because, uh, I was robbed last night and I have no phone, no money or ID right now.”

“Gabrielle doesn’t have any siblings,” he says looking like he’s about to come around the counter and make me submit. (Note: Chris is a body builder when he’s not making diabetes-inducing coffee drinks). I think, jeez, have I told the whole world I am an only child?

I say, “It’s a long story. Forget the hot chocolate. Thanks, bye!” and run out of the store.

I hop in the car and drive to the supermarket. There’s a Starbucks in there and I can get my morning hot chocolate and pick up some groceries. Duh! I should have done that in the first place.

Or not.

I grab a basket as I enter the store and saunter over to the Starbucks counter.

“May I help you?”

“Grande hot chocolate, please.”

“$4.57.”

I hold up my phone, think better of it and hand her a $5 bill.

“Here’s your change, sir,” she says, smiling sweetly. “I’ll have your drink ready in a moment.”

I look around for a guy and realize I am sir, smile and say, “Thanks, miss.”

I roam around the supermarket with my hot chocolate, picking up what I need. In the meat department, a pretty young woman smiles at me a little sultrily, sticks out her chest, licks her lips and asks me what’s the best cut of beef to grill.

“Uh, personally, I like skirt or hanger steak; but, I suspect most people prefer ribeye or porterhouse. Of course, you can’t go wrong with filet mignon.” By this time, she was way into my personal space.

“Thanks. My name is Lily.” She put out her hand for me to shake and held on as she continued. “I’m having some friends over tonight for a barbecue…I would love to have you…”

Tingling, I pulled my hand back and said, “Um, thanks? But, um, my hus…my spouse and I have plans. You have a great day, Lily!” I spun around and headed for check out.

Would this day never end?

At home, I put the groceries away, put the coffee on and then went to shower…where I discovered the only perk to being a guy. Just saying, I could get used to that.

Dressed and in front of my computer with my coffee, I responded to emails, rescheduled my 12:00 Zoom call for the following week (tomorrow might be too soon; I was hopeful that eventually I would be me again) and edited two reports.

Around 3:00, the doorbell rang. I debated not answering. I should have listened to that little voice. It was my neighbor, Jean.

“Hi, Jean,” I said.

“Um, hi. Who are you?” How stupid can I get?

“I’m Gabrielle’s broth- friend. She had to step out for a while. Can I help you?”

“Oh. I just wanted to see if I could borrow the lawn mower. My grass is out of control.”

“I’m sure that wouldn’t be a problem. Even better,” I continued, now excited about being a guy, “I can do it for you.”

“Oh, no, that’s fine. I’ll do it,” she replied, looking a little uncomfortable.

“I would love to! And I know Gabrielle and Evan would never forgive me if I didn’t help you out.”

She smiled, “Evan’s great. He always lends everyone on the block a hand.”

She paused, looking in my eyes. “Okay, if you really don’t mind, thanks. I’m at 10 Kingsland – three houses down on the left.”

“I know. I mean, Okay, be there in five.”

It was a hot day, so I pulled an Evan and stripped off my shirt mid-mowing. I was dripping. I thought I looked pretty good with the sprinkling of hair on my chest, hard belly (albeit sans six-pack) and nicely muscled arms. I’m bringing sexy back, yeah!

When I finished, Jean came out with a tall glass of something cold. Had she changed her clothes? I didn’t remember seeing that much cleavage before. I wiped my sweaty face with my shirt.

“Hey, thanks so much,” she said as she handed me the glass. “Lemonade,” she continued, preempting my question. And then, “I realized, I don’t even know your name.”

“Thanks. Oh, um, My name. I have a name. And it’s a boy’s name.”

“Mulan,” she said, laughing.

“Haha, yeah. Tommy loved that movie growing up.”

“My girls, too. And what is your boy’s name?” she said with a smile.

“Oh, um, Steve. Steve, um, Smith. Yeah, Steve Smith.”

“Well, would you like to come sit on the porch for a bit, Steve Smith? It’s cooler there,” Jean asked with what I finally realized was a bit of a flirtatious voice. She touched my arm.

I tingled. Crap. I gulped down the lemonade. “Great lemonade, Jean! Thanks! Raincheck on the porch. Gotta go! Bye!” I said as I pushed the lawn mower down the street.

“Hope to see you again, Steve!” she said waving from her driveway.

Right. Not.

Home again, I took another shower. There is more than one reason teenage boys take multiple showers a day.

When Evan came home, I briefed him on my day (to shouts of laughter) and suggested we cancel our reservations and just eat at home.

“C’mon babe. We’ve been looking forward to trying this new restaurant for weeks!”

“Evannnnnn,” I whined…whining doesn’t sound the same in baritone.

“It’ll be great. No one to recognize you and your lack of siblings, good food, good drinks, we come home, go to sleep and with any luck you wake up tomorrow and everything is back to normal.”

We actually did manage to have a delicious meal without meeting anyone we knew. The waitress flirted with both of us. I thought it was amusing. He got jealous. Seriously. Jealous.

“You know we’re still married, babe, right?” he whispered.

“What? Of course. Why would you even ask that?”

“You’re flirting with the waitress.”

I laughed out loud. “Uh, no. She’s flirting with me. And with you. You don’t see me getting all caveman on you, do you?”

“I’m not a caveman. I know what I know. Are you finished? Let’s get the check.”

“Wow! Are you serious? Evan, I am your wife. I am not flirting with the waitress.”

“Fine. Whatever. I’m tired. Let’s go home.”

Could this day be over? Please!

The waitress brought the check, we paid, we left.

We drove home in silence.

Getting ready for bed, I said, “I’m sorry you’re upset. I really wasn’t flirting.”

“It’s okay. It was just a weird evening, I think.”

“Ha, you should have been me all day. It was one for the books.”

“How do we do this?”

“What?”

“Sleep.”

“What? Put your head on the pillow, close your eyes…”

“You know what I mean. We always cuddle…”

“Ah, well, I’m still your wife, despite the little guy.”

He laughed. “Yeah. Soooo weird. C’mere, babe.”

“We are not having sex,” I said.

“Yeah, no, we’re not. But we are going to cuddle.”

I turned out the light and he curved himself around me. Soon, we were both asleep.

In the morning, I looked down and I had breasts again and no little guy. As I turned over to face him, I said, “Evan! I’m back!” Then, I groaned, “Oh no. No no no no no no no no no no.”

Next to me was a beautiful woman.