Having Fun?

"Are you having fun, son?" I asked Jack as he came back into the locker room from his workout.

"Yeah, dad! I totally am!"

"See," I said, "I told you you'd have a good time. It's much better than going to those prissy dance classes you were going to, isn't it? Prancing around like a damn little fairy? Not my son! Not no more!"

"Fuck yeah, dad! I don't know what I was thinking. I'm so lucky to be a big, strong man like you now. I'd look pretty fuckin' ridiculous in my dance leotards now anyways. Not that I'd wanna do that shit any more. Dancing is for queers, man."

"Damn straight, son," I said, loving the fact that the mental transformation seemed to be taking hold just as well as the physical transformation, "Now how 'bout you finished getting dressed, and then you and your old man here can go catch a game and grab a couple of beers down at the bar -- just like a father and son ought to do."