"The Misadventures of Dad in Mom's Body: A Hilarious Tale of Makeup Mishaps and High Heels"
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"Alex, have you seen my…" Dad trailed off as he wandered into my room. Though, at the moment, it was really Mom lost inside Dad's body. Next to me was Dad, trying not to topple over in heels, while wearing his third unsuccessful attempt at applying Mom’s makeup.
"You’ve got lipstick on your teeth, Dad."
“Ugh, how does she do this every day?” He pouted, dabbing at the smear with a tissue and smudging it across his—well, technically—Mom's cheek.
“It's a skill, Dad. One you should probably work on since you now need to sell body swap technology while using Mom’s body. Speaking of which, do you even know how to walk in those heels?”
He cast a rueful glance at the five-inch stilettos wobbling beneath him. "Alex, I can't feel my toes. I think they've joined the witness protection program."
“That bad, huh?” I titled my head, examining the consequence of his makeup misadventures. “Okay, forget the heels for now. Let's focus on getting you into the blazer and dress pants."
"These heels are already hard enough. How do women do anything in these?"
"With great difficulty and mysterious superpowers," I replied.
"Alright, let's tackle this blazer nonsense. There's got to be a trick to maneuvering buttons around… well…you know," he said, gesturing helplessly at Mom's body.
We spent the next ten minutes trying to position flimsy fabric against voluminous curves. It was like negotiating a peace treaty between two toddler factions—chaotic, tedious, and highly likely to fail.
I realized our first error after the third attempt. “Dad, you're putting it on backward.”
“Why are there so many rules?!” He flailed, nearly knocking over my desk lamp.
"Okay, deep breath. Mornings with Mom aren't usually a sitcom. Let's handle this one step at a time."
Minutes later, we managed to weave the blazer over Mom's frame miraculously—until he saw the pantyhose.
"You expect me to wear those?" Dad gawked at the delicate fabric as if it'd bite him.
"Unless you plan to pair that skirt with socks. Trust me, nobody wants to see that combo."
“Muttering something about the Geneva Conventions, Dad reluctantly slid into the dainty garment. Finally, he attempted to strut—and promptly landed on the floor with a flail.
From his prone position, he groaned, “Do you think Amazon Prime delivers orthopedic shoes?”
***
Two Weeks Later at the Company Presentation…
Dad—now with finely honed skill in everything from applied mascara to maintaining first-time eye contact without appearing like he’s calculating complex data—stood before a conference room buzzing with company executives.
"Good morning," he began in Mom's melodic voice. He had curiously developed a knack for using it to soothe the most irritable clients, transform negotiation scenarios; even the printer seemed friendlier.
“Today, I'll introduce you to revolutionary body swap technology from SwappaTech. Imagine effortlessly transferring a mind from one body to another with ultimate precision. This could revolutionize healthcare, undercover work, even stepping into someone’s shoes—quite literally!”
“Or their heels,” I whispered audibly enough to make a few executives chuckle.
***
Post-presentation, Dad—still mobilizing Mom's grace—had effortlessly charmed the board into signing massive contracts.
As we packed up, I grinned. “You're a natural, Dad. Even Mom’s curves couldn’t curve your sales stats.”
“Thanks, Alex. Swapping bodies was a blunder...but maybe not entirely catastrophic. Plus, I never had anyone hold open a door for me before,” he smirked, gently tugging his skirt into place.
We laughed together as we left the office, contemplating the challenges of tie knots or lipstick smudges.
After all, for all his salesmanship, watching Dad do a full skincare routine every night had become its own kind of entertainment. Here’s hoping he doesn’t convert to painting nails outdoors come summer.
This story was generated by user zach3 with assistance by one of OpenAI’s large-scale language-generation model; prompts used to help generate the story are shown below.
Images were generated with OpenAI's AI system, DALL·E 2, or uploaded by the user.
AI Prompts
Prompt: write a story with dialogue where My dad was a hardworking salesmen his hard work never went unnoticed and he made lots of money for us. When his company told him to sell the new body swap tech he was intrigued he decided to test the tech out at home. He didn't know how to use it and swapped he and my moms bodies permanently now he has to sell the product using moms body with my help. But before that he needs to figure out how to get on his blazer and dress pants over moms busty and curvy frame. The company loves the product and loves that it works and dad pulls off the sale he uses his new curvy body to his advantage as well.
Response: "Alex, have you seen my…" Dad trailed off as he wandered into my room. Though, at the moment, it was really Mom lost inside Dad's body. Next to me was Dad, trying not to topple over in heels, while wearing his third unsuccessful attempt at applying Mom’s makeup. "You’ve got lipstick on your teeth, Dad." “Ugh, how does she do this every day?” He pouted, dabbing at the smear with a tissue and smudging it across his—well, technically—Mom's cheek. “It's a skill, Dad. One you should probably work on since you now need to sell body swap technology while using Mom’s body. Speaking of which, do you even know how to walk in those heels?” He cast a rueful glance at the five-inch stilettos wobbling beneath him. "Alex, I can't feel my toes. I think they've joined the witness protection program." “That bad, huh?” I titled my head, examining the consequence of his makeup misadventures. “Okay, forget the heels for now. Let's focus on getting you into the blazer and dress pants." "These heels are already hard enough. How do women do anything in these?" "With great difficulty and mysterious superpowers," I replied. "Alright, let's tackle this blazer nonsense. There's got to be a trick to maneuvering buttons around… well…you know," he said, gesturing helplessly at Mom's body. We spent the next ten minutes trying to position flimsy fabric against voluminous curves. It was like negotiating a peace treaty between two toddler factions—chaotic, tedious, and highly likely to fail. I realized our first error after the third attempt. “Dad, you're putting it on backward.” “Why are there so many rules?!” He flailed, nearly knocking over my desk lamp. "Okay, deep breath. Mornings with Mom aren't usually a sitcom. Let's handle this one step at a time." Minutes later, we managed to weave the blazer over Mom's frame miraculously—until he saw the pantyhose. "You expect me to wear those?" Dad gawked at the delicate fabric as if it'd bite him. "Unless you plan to pair that skirt with socks. Trust me, nobody wants to see that combo." “Muttering something about the Geneva Conventions, Dad reluctantly slid into the dainty garment. Finally, he attempted to strut—and promptly landed on the floor with a flail. From his prone position, he groaned, “Do you think Amazon Prime delivers orthopedic shoes?” *** Two Weeks Later at the Company Presentation… Dad—now with finely honed skill in everything from applied mascara to maintaining first-time eye contact without appearing like he’s calculating complex data—stood before a conference room buzzing with company executives. "Good morning," he began in Mom's melodic voice. He had curiously developed a knack for using it to soothe the most irritable clients, transform negotiation scenarios; even the printer seemed friendlier. “Today, I'll introduce you to revolutionary body swap technology from SwappaTech. Imagine effortlessly transferring a mind from one body to another with ultimate precision. This could revolutionize healthcare, undercover work, even stepping into someone’s shoes—quite literally!” “Or their heels,” I whispered audibly enough to make a few executives chuckle. *** Post-presentation, Dad—still mobilizing Mom's grace—had effortlessly charmed the board into signing massive contracts. As we packed up, I grinned. “You're a natural, Dad. Even Mom’s curves couldn’t curve your sales stats.” “Thanks, Alex. Swapping bodies was a blunder...but maybe not entirely catastrophic. Plus, I never had anyone hold open a door for me before,” he smirked, gently tugging his skirt into place. We laughed together as we left the office, contemplating the challenges of tie knots or lipstick smudges. After all, for all his salesmanship, watching Dad do a full skincare routine every night had become its own kind of entertainment. Here’s hoping he doesn’t convert to painting nails outdoors come summer.
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