Nigel woke up with a start. He was confused and didn't know how he had gotten back in Darius' house or how he had switched bodies with Latifa. Nigel then went to the kitchen to see that his plate of

Nigel, an 11-year-old boy with a sense of exploration and curiosity, was excitedly visiting his friend Darius' house for the first time. Darius' house was a mystery to Nigel, he hadn't been there before and had no clue about the ground rules. Entering the place with a jovial mood faded quickly as Latifa, Darius' mother, swiftly confiscated his phone and other electronics. Latifa was a 44-year-old dynamic woman with a strict demeanor. Her trendy attire, a combination of a pink glittery shirt with green sweatpants, added to her vibrant personality. Her pink flip flops, the sleep bonnet atop her head, and that purse hanging casually from her shoulder expressed her style. Her freshly manicured nails were another testament to her tasteful choices. Time raced past as Nigel and Darius immersed themselves in playing with their toys. In the course of their games, late afternoon descended upon them, bringing with it the feeling of hunger that poked at Nigel. Not knowing how to proceed, he asked Darius about the protocol of requesting a snack in the house. In response, Darius advised Nigel to simply ask his mom and she'd happily make something for them. Mustering courage, Nigel approached Latifa and with a slight hesitation in his voice, said, "Um, excuse me, is it okay if Darius and I have a snack or something to drink?" The earnestness of Nigel's request moved Latifa, who replied, "I love your manners boo. I'll fix something up just for you sugar. Darius knows he has to ask me himself if he wants something too." A plate of tantalizing chicken nuggets and french fries soon found its way to Nigel, who devoured them with gusto. Darius, coming in a bit later, asked his mom about his snack only to get a reminder about the house rules from Latifa. "You know the rules. You know damn well YOU gotta come out and ask me yourself. Your friend here did just that and prospered with something now you're gonna have to wait for your snack," Latifa answered. With a sense of frustration, Latifa made Darius' snack while keeping a peculiar secret hidden from the boys. After Darius found his plate in front of him, something about his snack seemed off. But the sight of his friend, Nigel, who had yet to touch his food, sparked an idea in Darius' mind. Upon Nigel leaving to use the bathroom, Darius hastily switched the plates and began eating. When Nigel returned, Darius had finished his meal. As Nigel commenced eating his switched serving, his vision started getting blurry until it blacked out completely. Startlingly, Nigel found himself sitting in a bedroom instead of the kitchen. Moreover, he felt taller and his perspective felt adult-like. Things became clearer as Nigel looked down and realized he was wearing a pink glittery shirt, green sweatpants, flip flops and even had a purse on his shoulder. "What the? Am I dreaming?" exclaimed Nigel surprisingly, this time in Latifa's voice. On top of it, his nails were painted which made him more uncomfortable. Removing the flip-flops, the purse, and the sleep bonnet deeming them too girly, he mooched around the house. To his surprise, he encountered his own body. Moreover, his voice escaped his lips, still in Latifa's voice, "Um ma'am? I don't know how to say this but we switched bodies and I don't know what to do." Conveying an unnervingly calm demeanor, Latifa responded, "I know boo. And I believe my son switched your plate of food with his. I intended to swap with him temporarily but I can't have my secret getting out so I'm afraid I'm going to have to wipe your memory and make you believe you've always been me. Sorry sugar." And with that, she snapped her fingers, and Nigel's pleading did no good as his memories started to fade, replaced by the experiences of a middle-aged woman until he remembered nothing about being 11-year-old Nigel. Now Latifa, in the body that once belonged to Nigel, blinked away her confusion and strode back to the bedroom. Startled at the sight of her haphazard appearance in the mirror, she hastily palmed the flip-flops and bonnet back on, slung the purse over her shoulder, and sighed, saying, "What the Hell? My head hurt for some reason. Being a mom must be getting to me today for some reason." But as she left the room, every memory that connected her to the once 10-year-old Nigel was gone.