Pocket Watch Regression

Drew rubbed his eyes and yawned, still half-asleep on the couch in his tiny apartment. His brown curls were a sweaty mess from the unusually warm February night. Across from him, his best friend Milo was fiddling with an old brass pocket watch he’d bought at a weird flea market the weekend before.

“You seriously think this thing does what the seller claimed?” Drew asked, smirking. “Magical time-rewind artifact. Sure.”Milo grinned, dangling the watch between two fingers. “Only one way to find out. Ready to be five again?

”Drew rolled his eyes but played along. “Fine. Hit me with your best shot, wizard boy.”Milo clicked the clasp open, whispered something that sounded like half-Latin, half-gibberish, and spun the hands backward in one smooth motion.

The world tilted. Drew felt his stomach drop like he’d missed a step on stairs. His legs suddenly felt too short. His hands shrank, fingers stubby and uncoordinated. The oversized super hero T-shirt he’d been wearing slithered down his shoulders and puddled around him like a blanket. His curly brown hair stayed the same length—but now it flopped into his eyes in soft baby ringlets. He blinked up at Milo, who suddenly looked twenty feet tall.“Uh…” Drew’s voice came out high, round, and impossibly small. “…Milo?"

Milo’s jaw dropped. Then he burst out laughing so hard he nearly dropped the watch.“Dude. You’re—you’re actually two. Maybe two and a half. Holy crap.”

Drew tried to stand. His legs wobbled like a newborn foal and he plopped straight back onto his butt with a soft thump. He stared at his own chubby little hands, horrified. “This isn’t five.” he squeaked. “This is—this is toddler! I am lucky I am still able to talk!” “Yeahhhh I maybe… misread the incantation,” Milo admitted, still snickering. “It said ‘youthful state’ not ‘five-year-old state.’ Semantics, right?”

Drew’s lower lip trembled. He wasn’t sure if he was about to cry because he was actually upset or because toddler hormones were apparently very strong. His eyes got hot and big and shiny.“Don’t cry, don’t cry—” Milo said quickly, dropping to his knees. “Okay. Okay. We’ll fix it. I promise.?” Drew sniffled, wiped his nose on the sleeve of the giant T-shirt that now reached his ankles, and glared up with wet brown eyes framed by those ridiculous curls.“You’re buying me chicken nuggets,” he declared in the most serious toddler voice imaginable. “And apple juice. With the straw. And then you’re fixing this.”Milo pressed his lips together to keep from laughing again. “Deal, little man.”Drew crossed his pudgy arms over his chest, trying to look tough despite sitting in a puddle of his own adult clothes.“…and a dinosaur chicken nugget,” he added quietly.Milo finally lost it, laughing until tears ran down his face.“Anything you want, Drew.”