"I always wondered how it would feel to be a catwalk model." Karen said as she fired the remote at herself.
After an instant, the beam hit mom, she rapidly shot up in height, reaching the perfect model form of 5'10, an inch taller than me. Her outfit was ripped at the seams in several places, but for the moment my mom didn't mind. Being 5'1 her entire life made this experience entirely new for Karen. At this height, her balance was a bit off, and Karen clumsily tried to find her footing, unused to seeing the world from this angle.
"This is so cool Matt! I'm like a model!" Karen admired her stretched body.
"Almost mom, but models tend to be thin." I said, being a little mean, but also realistic. I pointed at her slight belly bulge. Karen wasn't fat or obese by an stretch of the word, but she wasn't model thin, in other words, she's what you'd expect from a 40 year old mom who worked out once a week.
"Hmm, so you're saying I'm fat!," Karen glared at me. "N-no, not at all. I think you look great. In fact I love a woman with a little more," I was secretly hoping she would take it as a compliment.
"Matt tell me I look gorgeous." Karen said, her tone demanding.
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