Scott was woken up by Harry's mother in the morning after passing out in Harry's bed last night for the first time.
"Come on, honey. Wake up! Time for school!"
"Wha....?" Scott said in a much softer voice than he expected.
"You heard me, young man! Time for school! Now hurry up and start getting ready!"
He looked around. He was in the boy's bedroom, and waking up on his bed. And it was unepectedly large enoug for his-
He flipped off the covers-
-small skinny little body.
His heart leaped.
"That's right. I turned myself into a 10 year old version of my 12 year old step son," Scott thought with alarm. "Which means.....that Angela is now my mom, and she thinks I have to go to.....school!"
Not only that, but to GRADE school! To private Catholic grade school! The Catholic schools in the area don't have middle schools. They have K-6 for three different area grade schools, which all feed into the junior/senior high school of 7-12. So Scott won't just be in the same school with other kids his age. He'll be going to a school with kids as young as 5!
Catholic school for the boy was all Angela's idea. Not necessarily for the religious education, so much as it was for the higher quality general education. And for the discipline Catholic schools attempt to distill. Not that the boy was a bad kid. Quite the contrary. He was generally a good kid, though his infernal curiosity tends to get him, and others, in trouble. Like the present situation.
Scott forced himself to get to moving after the initial shock of seeing his son's shrimpified form currently acting as his own body clothed in kids' pajamas after he had thrown off Harry's bed sheets. Breathing out a frustrated breath, Scott said "this sucks!"
He jumped out of his bed with newfound youthful energy.
"Well, at least waking up is easy to do."
He also noticed not a single ounce of soreness anywhere. He was well-rested for the first time in...well....ages! "School, huh?" he next said as he stood there, looking around the much larger room and studying his much shorter and thinner frame wearing his young boy's pajamas.
Taking a deep breath, he knew he had to comply in order to keep up with this charade for the day. He couldnt exactly go into the basement to mix up a new batch of his own DNA with his mom around. Why did he choose to become his own son anyway? In his panicing distress, he thought it would have been the better idea to make himself disappear, rather than his son. But now he realized he will have much less time to spend in his lab. He knew Angela got mad anytime the boy went into the basement. She knew it was off-limits for his work. And to make matters worse, he happened to pick up a 2 year old string of hair, giving him the body of a prebubescent 10 year old boy! What the hell was a string of hair doing hanging around for two years anyway?/
Well, whatever. This was the situation he now had to live with. He was mentally 38 years old, stuck in a physically 10 year old body, trying to pass off that he was 12 years old, and having to wear a Catholic school uniform to go to a 6th grade classroom.
He knew where Harry's uniforms were. Neatly hung in the closet. He opened the closet door, and there was a row of clothing neatly hung on hangars, all identical. They were ugly and weird in Scott's eyes. When he was a public school kid back in the 90s, he would look at the Catholic school kids with disdain. And now more than 20 years later, he WAS a Catholic school kid!
"Ugh." He started looking for the smallest pair of pants of Harry's he could find. He knew he was now smaller than the 12 year old boy. He found a pair that was size 11, among size 12s.
"11, huh?" he murmed disappointedly.
Grabbing a white button-down shirt, a tie, and the stupid navy blue vest, he laid them on the boy's bed that was now designated as his. Scott couldn't believe he was going to fo through with this.
Sighing, he grabbed his small little clothes that gis new small little body will fit inside of, and went to towards the bathroom to start getting ready. Christ, he even FELT like a kid getting ready for school.
Once in the bathroom, he began to undress. His unimpressive, hairless, smooth little body below his neck made him blush. His weiner was tiny and undeveloped! His balls the size of pebbles inside a smooth, hairless little sack. He plodded over towards the mirror. His head barely above the sink. Staring back from the mirror, was Harry's young big brown eyes and face!
"Jesus Christ, I really did turn into that boy!" he thought. "I now have his face and his body." He tenderly stroked his new, impossibly young little face with his new little hands.
He took a deep breath and steeled his resolve. He needed to play the part for now, until he figured out a solution.