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A New Man of the House</p>
A few of you may recognize this story from several years ago. It's been updated and rewritten since then.
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Chapter 1 -- A Discussion over Dinner</p>

Monday. December 7th. 5:47 PM.</p>
Al couldn't hide his disgust as he sat at the kitchen table. Was he officially one of those guys? Was he now married to a woman who'd completely given up? His worst nightmare had become reality.
"Why wouldn't you ask for my opinion first?"
Kelly checked her chicken and rice soup on the stove before glancing back at her husband. "I wasn't aware that I needed your permission."
"Kelly, I'm your husband," he told her, shaking his head. "I should have a say in this. You need to let it grow back."
The forty-two-year-old mother of one didn't see the problem with her new haircut. She'd considered doing something like it for a while, and finally decided to go for it at the salon earlier. Her previously long blonde hair was exhausting to maintain. She worked forty hours a week, ran a household, and took care of everything that her husband always put off, and now she had a short pixie cut which would take minutes to wash and style, versus the hassle of dealing with her formerly long locks.
Al thought that a thirteen-year-old boy stood in the kitchen when he arrived home from work ten minutes ago. His wife's hair didn't even cover her ears! The left side sat high on her head before swooping down across her forehead and ending just above her right eyebrow. It looked awful! Her blue eyes didn't even pop anymore, and the idea of looking at her during sex caused his stomach to churn. He loved pulling on her long hair, but now he wouldn't have anything to grab onto!
"It's my hair and it's my decision," she stated. "Don't like it? Well, tough shit. Hopefully you'll get used to it."
He couldn't tear his eyes away from her horrific haircut. He wanted to go down to her salon and slap the stylist who'd massacred her gorgeous blonde hair, but his real problem involved her lack of consulting him on the subject.
"I should have just as much of a say about this as you do. I'm the one who has to look at it all-day! Not you! What you did was incredibly selfish."
"Selfish?" she snickered. "You should be the last one to accuse anyone of being selfish."
His eyebrows perked up after hearing her comment. "What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"
"Hey, Dad."
Al turned to see his eighteen-year-old son, Mike, walk into the kitchen with his basketball bag over his shoulder.
"Hey, Mike," he greeted him back.
The teen plopped his bag down on the table before glancing over at his mother. "Hey, Mom, whatcha making--whoa!"
Kelly smiled at her son gingerly, curious to hear his opinion about her new haircut.
"When did this happen?" Mike asked, pointing at her head.
"A few hours ago," she answered.
A big smile suddenly grew on his face. "It looks great!"
"Really!?" she asked excitedly.
He took a seat at the table next to his father. The six-foot-tall, brown-haired, brown-eyed high school senior wore a pair of basketball shorts and a gray hoodie despite it being fifteen degrees outside with light snow showers. It drove his mother crazy how he refused to wear a coat or even pants on his way home from basketball practice, but he was stuck in his ways.
"Absolutely," he nodded. "Listen, I love long hair, but this is like my second favorite hairstyle. What's it called?"
"A pixie cut," she told him with a big smile.
"I love it," he reiterated. "It looks awesome on you."
Kelly turned her attention to her husband. The fact that he looked like he'd just smelled a skunk made her situation even sweeter. "Well, would you look at that? Mike loves it."
Al's eyes peered sharply at his son, disgusted. "Are you kidding me?"
"Excuse me?" Mike asked.
"You love it?" Al inquired again. "Are you serious? It looks awful!"
"Jesus, Mom is standing right there!"
"I don't care," Al huffed. "I can't stand it. It doesn't look feminine at all. I feel like I'm married to a guy!"
Mike's focus shifted back to his mother. "Don't listen to him. I really love it."
She smiled again before checking the pot of soup on the stove.
"Will you stop kissing her ass?" Al groaned. "You know, you've always been a mama's boy."
"I'm not a mama's boy!" he protested. "I'm just being honest. Mom looks great. Are you seriously telling me that you don't like her hair?"
"I'm sickened by it."
"You don't have to be an asshole," he told Al.
"I'm not being an asshole," Al said, shaking his head. "You know, she does shit like this because everyone constantly tells her how great she is all the time. Mom needs some honesty, and it honestly looks awful. I loved her hair! It was the best part about her, and now that's gone and I didn't even have a say in the matter! It isn't right."
Mike couldn't be more stunned by his father's behavior. "Dad, it's Çanakkale Escort her hair. She should be able to do whatever she wants with it."
"Bullshit," the forty-five-year-old father protested. "My opinion should matter just as much as hers."
The two men glanced up to see Kelly place a bowl of soup in front of each of them. "I don't think I should have to ask for permission to get a haircut."
"That's not a haircut," Al sighed. "That's a fuckin' holocaust."
Mike rolled his eyes and watched his mother make her way to the table with a bowl of soup in hand for herself. "Could you be more dramatic, Dad? A holocaust?"
"It is," he stated firmly as his wife took a seat directly across the table. "I don't even have an appetite."
The high school senior caught his mother's attention before she raised her first spoonful of dinner to her lips. "Well, I think you look beautiful."
Her spoon tilted, causing her soup to pour back into the bowl. "What?"
"I think you look beautiful," he repeated casually before helping himself to some of his meal.
"That's the last thing she needs to hear," Al groaned. "She'll stop wearing makeup next."
"Okay, fine, you don't like her haircut," he said to his dad. "That's your opinion, but let's be honest with each other here. You're still batting way out of your league."
Al looked up from his soup. "Excuse me?"
"You're batting way out of your league," he repeated.
Al didn't follow. "What does that mean?"
"I seriously have to explain this? Okay, fine. Dad, Mom's like a ten. She's a knockout, and I don't know what happened back in the day to result in you getting her, but you should count your lucky stars that you somehow did."
Kelly had yet to enjoy any of her dinner. She still glowed from being called beautiful just moments ago, and her hands felt weak as she placed her spoon down on the wooden surface of the kitchen table. It was constant criticism from Al. Everything she did was either wrong or stupid. Living with him had become a drain on her, but Mike always made things better. Not like this, though. She couldn't remember the last time that someone complimented her looks, and she found herself wanting to bask in her current heaven.
Al didn't share his son's opinion. "I should be counting my lucky stars? Are you kidding me? Your mother should be the one thanking God for ending up with me."
Mike raised his eyebrows.
"She should be!" Al declared loudly. "Look around! She has this great life because of me! Not to mention that she's married to a stud."
Kelly snickered.
His focus shifted to his wife. "You should see some of the guys I work with. They're a bunch of fuckin' slobs. Do I look like I did when I was twenty-five? No, but I think you're pretty fuckin' lucky, Kelly!"
She observed her husband's thinning hair before moving down to his big beer belly. She definitely didn't share Al's opinion of himself when he looked in the mirror. She saw a balding, negative, overweight guy who didn't help out around the house at all. In fact, Mike took care of the manly duties like lawn maintenance and minor home repairs.
Al was more than happy to grab a few beers after work, head into the family room, and plop his butt down on the sofa in front of the TV for the next four hours. And don't even get her started on their sex life. As selfish as he was in everyday life, his narcissism was tenfold when it came to the bedroom. She couldn't even remember when she last received oral sex!
"Yeah, I'm a real lucky girl..." she muttered sarcastically.
"Damn right you are," Al agreed, not picking up on her joke whatsoever. "I'm the catch in this relationship."
Mike was flabbergasted as he looked up from his bowl. "You're joking, right?"
"No, I'm not joking," Al reiterated instantly. "Your mother is married to a successful, funny, good-looking stud."
Kelly and Mike exchanged baffled glances.
"Dad, Mom looks better than ninety-nine percent of the girls at my school."
Al burst into laughter. "Okay, now I know that you're messing with me!"
"I'm not messing with you," Mike protested calmly. "I'm telling you the truth."
"Son, you can't fight age," Al said. "Eighteen is eighteen. No guy is taking a forty-two-year-old over some eighteen-year-old hottie."
"According to who? You?"
Al shot his son a confused look. "You can't think straight because you're surrounded by eighteen-year-old cuties all-day, so when you see an older woman, she looks good to you because it's something different. You wouldn't actually pick an older woman over one of your classmates, though."
"I absolutely would," Mike said.
"This kid needs a drug test," Al laughed.
Mike dropped his spoon into his soup bowl and asked, "Can I be honest for a minute?"
"You weren't already being honest?" he questioned.
"No, I was, but I mean really honest," the three-sport athlete replied.
"You know how it works in this house," Al told him. "You're free to say whatever you want. Çanakkale Escort Bayan You don't have to censor yourself."
Mike needed to double-check with his mother first. "And you're okay with that?"
She remained somewhat loopy thanks to his comment about her being beautiful earlier, but she'd finally come back down to earth. "Sure."
"I mean, it's about you," he said. "I don't want to make you uncomfortable or anything."
"You can say whatever you want, baby," she said with a smile.
Mike looked his father dead in the eyes. "You're married to the most perfect woman on the planet."
Al rolled his eyes while Kelly lost her breath. The parents were only six feet apart--sitting at opposing ends of the kitchen table--but their reactions couldn't have been more different.
"First off, let's talk about her personality," Mike started. "Mom isn't like any other woman I've ever met. She's kind, caring, and she always puts others first--even strangers! It's unbelievable to me. You should see the way girls my age act. They're narcissistic and self-obsessed, but Mom is the complete opposite. I've never met someone who always thinks about everyone else the way she does."
Kelly's jaw was on the floor.
"And she's super fun to be around. She's easy to talk to, she can take a joke--unlike most women--and she loves to bust balls. I mean, what girl is like that? Most guys aren't even that way!"
Al didn't look impressed.
"And it's the nurturing side of her that really stands out," Mike continued. "What about when either of us are sick? It's like we have our own personal nurse in the house! She cooks us anything we ask for, she waits on all of our requests, and she just wants us to get better. But that sums up the kind of person she is. She's always trying to improve the lives of others. She's a saint!"
Mike flashed his mother a quick smile before turning back to his father.
Kelly was stunned.
"Now, Dad, that would be enough as-is to make you one of the luckiest guys to ever live. I mean, pretty much every dude would think that they hit the lottery if they had a girl with those traits, but if all of that isn't enough, then we get to her looks."
Her eyes had been locked on her son throughout the entirety of his speech, and now her heart began to race. That was the single greatest minute of her life, and now he planned to discuss her looks? She was his mother! He couldn't do that! But the woman in her wanted him to continue.
"I mean, she's attractive," Al chimed in.
"Attractive?" Mike laughed. "Really? That's how you would label her? Dad, she's a knockout."
"A knockout? Jesus, relax with the exaggerations."
"You don't think Mom's a knockout?" Mike asked.
Al shook his head.
"Well, what's a knockout to you then?"
"A supermodel is a knockout," Al told him. "Like, a Victoria's Secret model or something, and son, your mother is no Victoria's Secret model."
"Those chicks are gross."
Al couldn't believe what he'd just heard. "What did you say?"
"Those chicks are gross," Mike repeated. "Who the hell wants a Victoria's Secret model? They're like six-feet-tall and weigh ninety pounds. It's disgusting."
"Are you crazy!?" shouted Al. "Those girls are stunning!"
Mike peered over at his mother who appeared awfully awestruck at the moment. "Stand up."
...
"Mom!"
Kelly snapped to attention. "What?"
"Stand up," Mike said once more.
She rose from her seat gingerly and stood in front of the table dressed in a pair of black yoga pants and a long sleeve gray shirt.
"Are we looking at the same thing here?" he asked his father.
"I see a forty-two-year-old woman with a rather unattractive haircut."
Mike shook his head, his eyes never leaving his mother. "I see a knockout."
"God, I fuckin' hate that haircut..." Al muttered under his breath.
Mike pretended to ignore his dad's comment. "Okay, so, let's start at the top. Now, I was a fan of her long hair like you were, and I know that we don't see eye to eye when it comes to her new style, but most guys would say that Mom has really sexy hair. I mean, who doesn't love a blonde, right? But, Dad, it's her eyes. Her blue eyes sparkle. And she could easily pass for thirty. You do realize that you're married to a blonde-haired, blue-eyed stunner, don't you? That's pretty much every guy's dream."
Kelly's right hand gripped the chair in an attempt to keep herself upright. She wasn't sure how much more praise she could take.
Once again, Al didn't appear to agree.
"Total honesty, right?" Mike asked.
"Total honesty," Al nodded.
His eyes descended his mother's curvy body. "I mean, come on, Dad..."
He stared at his son, waiting for him to continue.
"Mom has amazing...um...amazing--"
"Tits," Al jumped in with a laugh.
The sound of Mike laughing along with his father swiftly filled the kitchen. "Well, I guess there's no reason to be shy. Yeah, Mom has great boobs."
Kelly's cheeks turned Escort Çanakkale bright red.
"I can't argue that," Al agreed.
"Okay, now we're at probably the second most impressive part of her," Mike continued. "Her stomach and hips. Do you realize what the average forty-two-year-old mom looks like? Newsflash, it doesn't look like that! How often are you in the gym, Mom?"
"I try to go at least three days a week," she answered meekly.
"She busts her ass in the gym three days a week, eats healthy, and she does it all so she looks great for you," Mike pointed out. "How in the world can't you appreciate that?"
"Hey, I'm not too bad to look at myself," Al countered.
He eyed his pudgy, out of shape father, and quickly found himself confused once again by his irrational and undeserved confidence.
"Most guys would see this and drool, but do you want to know what the craziest part is?" Mike said, pointing at his mother. "Turn around, Mom."
Kelly followed her son's order so that her back now faced the table.
"I mean, Jesus Christ," the young man moaned. "She's unreal."
"Huh?" Al asked, not on the same page. "What are you talking about?"
"Are we not looking at the same thing?" Mike inquired.
Al raised his eyebrows as he eyed his wife. "Um, I see what appears to be a twelve-year-old blond boy."
"Will you stop?" Mike laughed. "Dad, look at that ass."
Kelly gasped.
"It's big," Al commented.
"Fuckin' right it is," Mike grunted through clenched teeth.
Kelly glanced behind her to find Mike with his focus solely locked on her backside. Was this seriously happening? Did her son really break down her body piece by piece in an attempt to make his father see what he saw? She could've taken a million guesses at their topic of discussion over dinner tonight, and she never would've imagined anything like this.
"So, I see a dykey haircut and a big ass."
Mike shook his head in disagreement. "Dad, that's a perfect ass."
"Gimme second," Al said, pulling out his phone. "I'll show you what a perfect ass really looks like."
She didn't need to look behind her again to know that her son's eyes remained glued on her butt, because she sensed it. She felt his energy and she had no desire to allow it to leave. She wanted nothing more than to soak up every drop of attention coming from the eighteen-year-old stud at the table.
"Here," he told his son before handing him his phone. "Now, these girls have perfect bodies."
A few moments of silence passed before Mike spoke up. "You're crazy."
Al laughed while looking at him once again. "Excuse me?"
"I said that you're crazy," Mike repeated. "I don't see one girl who looks better than Mom in any of these pictures."
"Will you give me a break!? Seriously, stop kissing her ass! She gets more than enough attention. She doesn't need you fawning over her."
"I'm not fawning over her!" Mike strongly rejected his dad's accusation. "I see girls like this at school everyday. There's nothing special about a chick with her rib cage sticking out."
Al opened his mouth, but was quickly cut-off by his son. "Mom, look at this."
Kelly turned around and moved next to Mike's seat, accepting Al's phone after Mike gave it to her.
"Dad thinks these girls look better than you," Mike said.
Her eyes hit the screen as she scrolled through the pictures with her finger. All of the photos featured gorgeous women dressed in an array of lingerie and swimsuits, posing on exotic beaches and in seductive bedrooms. Their bodies were tight, their stomachs toned, and their skin couldn't appear more flawless. She found herself growing insecure.
"Um, sweetheart, these women are professional models," she noted.
"And?" Mike asked, not understanding her problem.
"Baby, these women are stunning," she pointed out bluntly.
Al finally agreed with his wife for the first time today. "Exactly! Even your mother sees it!"
Mike gazed up into his mom's vivid blue eyes. "Mom, don't sell yourself short. You look just as good as any of those girls."
She looked down at the phone once more. A perky blonde who appeared to be in her early-twenties engulfed the screen, dressed in stunning white lingerie as she posed on a bed covered in smooth white sheets. Even Kelly wouldn't rule out having a little fun with college-aged knockout if Al allowed it. The model was that beautiful.
"I don't look like these girls."
"Yes, you do," Mike instantly rebutted his mother's comment. He grew visibly frustrated as he took his father's phone back and handed it to him. "Dad, pull up a picture of a girl in yoga pants that you find sexy."
Al fiddled around on his smartphone for a few moments before handing the device back to his son.
Mike's brow furrowed after looking for himself. "Really? This?"
"Absolutely," Dad told him. "That might be the hottest picture ever."
The high school senior's eyes moved to the image again. The featured brunette on the screen was most likely eighteen or nineteen, and posed with her back to the bathroom mirror. She held her phone over her shoulder to allow herself to capture the reflection of her butt. It was nice, but it wasn't anything great. She had a toned and perky backside, but he wouldn't look twice if she walked past him on the street.