You know you can't let your dad see you like this, as a duplicate of him. Maybe you could-
"Hey, Tim. Where's your brother?"
"In yours and Mom's bathroom, I think."
Crap! You have no time to spare. What to do?! You're stuck as your dad!
You spy your old shoes and have an idea. It's so simple. You can just use your magic socks and your old shoes to turn back into yourself.
You clumsily use your now bigger hands to pull your dad's shoes off your now bigger feet. You briefly savor the sensation of being in a larger, more masculine body than your weedy teenage form.
"I wonder what he would be doing in there?"
"I dunno. He had a bag he wouldn't let me look at. He got mad at me when I tried to look in it."
Right, you don't have long. You pick up your old shoes and, with a sudden twinge of panic, realize that they are now much too small for your large, adult feet. There was no way you were ever going to get these on!
"A bag, eh? What kind of a bag?"
"I 'unno. Hey, you want to see what I can do?"
"Maybe later, Tim. I want to talk to your brother, first."
Quickly, your pry at the shoelaces with your thick, blunt fingers. Delicate, your father's body was not. Your somehow manage to pry the knots apart and yank the openings as wide as they could go before cramming your large, besocked feet into them. You quickly realize there was no way your feet were going to fit all the way in. Your toes were smash up into toe of your shoes, yet your heels wer still sticking out, mashing the back ends of your sneakers. That was the best your could really manage. If this wouldn't work, you were going to have a lot of explaining to do.
You hear your father's heavy footsteps as he enters the adjoining bedroom, approaching the bathroom you are currently holed up in.
There is a heavy knock on the door. "Son, are you in there?"
You don't answer. Maybe he'll just go away.
"Son, I know you're in there." The doorknob jiggles. Thankfully you had the mind to lock it before trying your experiment. "Answer me."
You recognize the warning tone in his voice, now your voice as well. It would be easy for your father to pick the lock. You had to distract him.
"Mmm-hmmm," you mutter back, wincing at the baritone of your voice. You look in the mirror, hoping the socks were working despite your shoes being much too small for your feet. Aside from the grey, your hair does look a few shades lighter, like it's returning to its normal color. You feet also feel as though they aren't as cramped. It's working!
"Are you alright in there?"
Looking down at your arms, it seems as though the hair isn't as thick on them as it had just been. You have a strange sense of vertigo as you begin losing height. As a test, you clear your throat. While your voice isn't as deep as before, it isn't quite yours just yet. Perhaps that could work to your advantage.
"A little sick," you mutter. Your voice sounds deeper and gravelier than normal, making it sound as though you had some sort of cold, hopefully.
"Sick? Sick how? You don't sound so good. Let me in so I can see you."
You can see your body hair retracting back into your skin, leaving your torso semi-smooth, just like you had been before. As this happens, your new muscles shrink away, returning to their original size. You still have your father's body fat, though. Your beer belly becomes more pronounced as you lose height and muscle, and you develop a full double chin. As you shrink to your normal size you're not losing your father's weight. Not yet, anyway. So, hopefully briefly, you're kind of fat. Your hairline moves forward again as the grey disappears from your temples and facial hair, which also thins out and vanishes. Your facial features become your own once again and the age lines on your face smooth out, just as your palms soften and your feet slide comfortably into your shoes.
You hear the handle jiggle as your dad starts picking the lock. "Son, I'm coming in."
You quickly throw on your clothes, not wanting to have to explain to your father what you were doing nearly naked in his bathroom. As you pull on your shirt, it feels tight against your fat belly. You weren't done transforming, yet!
The door opens up and your father cautiously pokes his head in. His bushy, black eyebrows are pushed up with concern, wrinkling his high forehead. It was so strange seeing your father, the man who you were an exact duplicate of moments before.
"Are you alright?" he asks, looking you up and down.
You try your best to suck your stomach in and cover your belly up with your arms. "Yeah, I'm feeling better, now." You can feel your belly shrinking away and the layer of fat on your body dissolving.
Your father steps in and eyes you with concern. "You sounded awful just a moment ago. What are you doing in here?"
"I, uh..." You glance around the bathroom before settling on the toilet. "I wanted to be in here in case I threw up. But, uh, I took some medicine. Sooo... I'm feeling better, now."
You think you can see a hint of suspicion in your father's gaze. "Alright. Tim said you brought a bag in with you. Want to tell me what that's all about?"
"Oh, that? I... I got some new socks."
You remove one of your shoes and wiggly your foot in your father's direction. "I just don't like it when he noses through my stuff, is all."
"I know how it is." You father nods. "I have a brother, too, you know." He scratches his goatee and smirks. "If you're feeling that sick then you should go straight to bed and get plenty of rest. I'll make sure Tim doesn't bother you. Just be nice to your little brother, alright?"
You nod, feeling immense relief.
"Those are some nice socks, by the way." Your dad ducks out, leaving you alone in the bathroom.
Quickly, before anything else can happen, you scoop up your dad's shoes and quickly make your way into your own room, locking your door.
These socks certainly warranted more experimentation, but your would need a more secure environment, where you wouldn't be interrupted. Glancing at your dad's shoes, you know that you certainly want to try those on again, along with some others from other people. This was going to be fun.