Steve trudged back out to the living room and found Alan there.
“Well, how do I look son?” Steve said, gesturing at his pink shirt, capris, and sandals.
“You really have to start calling me 'Mom' from now on,” said Alan. “And you look fine, dear. Let me just grab my purse, and I'll drive you to school.”
“What about Megan and Janet?” asked Steve.
“I am Janet,” answered Alan. “And you're Megan. Try to remember that. But if you're asking about your father and brother, I'm sure they'll manage to get to work and school just fine. Now hurry up, young lady.”
“God, this is humiliating,” grumbled Steve, picking up his daughter's pink-and-white, checkered book bag.
“Now, have you memorized your class schedule yet?” asked Alan gently. “Or would you like to discuss that quickly with your father before we leave?”
“No,” sighed Steve. “Whatever is happening to us is giving me more and more memories about how to be Megan Donaldson. As much as I hate to admit it, I know my school schedule perfectly... I mean her schedule, that is.”
“Yes of course, dear,” said Alan with a patient smile. He slung his mother's purse over his shoulder. “Let's get going then, Megan. We don't want you to be late. And I've got a ton of errands I need to run throughout the day.”
Alan and Steve went outside and got into Janet's car. Alan took the driver's seat while Steve glumly sat in the passenger's seat, staring out the window and pouting.