A brilliant inventor suffers a an unusual accident and needs to get to the local store to acquire a part needed for his invention before he can return back to normal. His young daughter innocently offers to help. Deciding to accept her help starts off a chain of events leading to the incredible adventure of the dolly daddy!

Dolly Daddy - Chapter 1
Copyright 2007 by Heather Rose Brown
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"No measurable change in size or thickness," I said as I laid a caliper amongst the clutter crowding my work table. I found my micro-cassette recorder behind a half-melted circuit board and made sure it was still running (the recorder, not the board) before continuing. "Once I return some necessary components to the electronic scale, I'm sure test subject four will weigh the same," I hefted the plastic cup I still had in my hand, "but rough field measurements indicate no discernible change in weight."

I set the cup in the only clear space to be found on the table and picked up a small wooden cube. "Test subject five is a block of wood, reportedly pine, although the clerk from which I purchased it could give me no other details regarding the origin of the tree from which it was taken."

Once I was satisfied the new test subject was in the center of the staging area attached to my latest creation, I raised my voice slightly to make sure what I said next would be recorded. "It measures approximately ten centimeters per side, with a point five percent margin of error to allow for the grain, as well as my own poor wood-working skills."

After checking all the settings to make sure everything was calibrated correctly, I stepped behind the yellow safety line I had painted on the cement floor, found the remote control in my shirt pocket, and pressed the activation button. My invention started making a soft whining sound that was almost too high to hear. The basement window behind me began to rattle as the sound slid down to a heavy rumble.

To my surprise and delight, something actually happened! I shouted to be heard over the noisy machinery. "It appears test subject number five has shrunk to at least two centimeters, possibly less than that in height along the Y axis. I'll need to take more precise measurements to be certain." As I stepped over the safety line to pick up the block, I noticed the sign I had place for myself on the staging platform. It read, "Stay behind yellow line while in operation." Unfortunately, it was a little too late to heed my own advice.

The first thing I noticed was the warm tingle when I was within range of the sigma radiation projector. The next thing I noticed was how much bigger everything became, including my clothing. I'd like to say the shriek that came next was merely surprise, but from the dampness I found in my briefs (which for some reason hadn't grown with the rest of my clothes), I suppose it would be more honest to say I was feeling simple, unmitigated terror.

A moment later, there was a knocking at the basement door. "Daddy, you okay down there?" My nine-year-old daughter's voice sounded odd, being a bit deeper, but still recognizable.

"I'm okay, Beth," I answered, trying to project confidence I didn't feel. "Go back and finish your homework."

"I did that last night. It's Saturday morning. You sure you're okay? You sound kinda funny."

"I'm fine. Just had a bit of an accident."

"Another accident?"

"Nothing that can't be undone. Just need to make some adjustments to the mass displacement induction coils and everything will be fine." There was an ominous pop and the bone-jarring rumble I'd been shouting over wound down.

"Right. I'm coming down." Before I could say anything to stop her, the door swung open and my daughter came clomping down the steps. She froze halfway down when she saw me. "Daddy, is that you?"

"Don't come any closer!"

Beth slowly walked the rest of the way down the steps. "I know, I know. 'Stay behind the yellow line while any device is in operation'." She opened the breaker box at the bottom of the staircase. "Should I kill the power to the basement?"

"I suppose that would be a good precaution," I glanced up at my silent creation, "although it probably isn't needed at this point."

Once she hit the last breaker and all my equipment powered down, Beth looked at me and asked, "So, what happened to you this time?"

"Just had a bit of an accident."

My daughters nose wrinkled as she walked up to me. "It sure smells like you did."

I felt myself blush when I realized what she was referring to. "Believe me, if I don't find a replacement for the incandescent radiation device, that will be the least of my worries."

Beth's forehead wrinkled, reminding me for a moment of how her mother used to look when she was confused. "What's an incandescent radiation device?"

I smiled proudly at how well she managed the words with almost no hesitation, while at the same time berating myself for using the jargon I tended to slip into while working on my inventions. "Basically, it's a light bulb. I heard the one I'd put in my creation pop a minute ago."

She crouched down in front of me and nodded. "Ah, got it. Want me to run upstairs and get a new one?"

"No, that's okay. I just used the last one one we had in the house a few minutes ago."

"Oh. That explains why none of the lights would turn on this morning."

"I'm sorry about that, sweetie. I promise to get replacements for them when the store opens this morning." I shrugged my shoulders in the shirt that hung on me like a tent. "I suppose I should find some clothes that fit me before then."

My daughter examined me with a critical eye. "I think maybe I can help with the clothes." Her nose wrinkled again. "You'll probably want to take a bath too."

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Taking a bath turned out to be more of a challenge than I had expected. When my daughter carried me up to the bathroom (after offering an exceptionally well thought out argument about the expediency of accepting her help compared to the time and energy wasted trying to get up the steps on my own), I found I needed help getting in and out of the tub. While I agreed she could help me get in, trying to get out afterwards without being seen naked turned out to be a bit of a problem.

While I was reviewing the pros and cons of setting up a set of steps in the tub made from a pile of my older issues of Genius Inventor's Weekly, my daughter suggested I try taking a bath in the kitchen sink. While I didn't like the idea of being so far off the floor, the proposal did have merit, plus it didn't involve finding a way of drying out a stack of magazines.

Once she had helped me up to the drainboard, she put the plug in the drain, then turned on the faucet. After testing the water temperature a couple of times, she added a drop of the strawberry scented bubble bath she had carried with me from the bathroom. When the sink was full of fizzing bubbles, she turned off the water and gave me with a rather sheepish look. "Ummm ... I been thinking of the clothes I was gonna get for ya, but I ain't sure how much you'll like them."

I gathered the shirt I had wrapped around me, carefully walked towards the edge of the drainboard, and reached up to touch Beth's cheek. "Sweetheart, your daddy made a dumb mistake. I'm a practical man in an impractical situation and I appreciate all and any help. Just having something clean that more or less fits would definitely be appreciated."

My daughter beamed at the praise. "Okay, I'll go so you can take your bath and see what I can find." She then planted a kiss on my nose before skipping out of the kitchen.

Once I was alone, I let the shirt fall from my shoulders, then slipped out of my briefs. Curiosity won over cleanliness for a moment when I thought about the differences in clothing sizes. I searched the collar of my shirt until I found the tag, which seemed to indicate it was one hundred percent polyester. I decided not to try doing the same with my underwear, but something at the back of my mind told me they were made of cotton.

"Inorganic compounds not affected?" I muttered. Realizing my recorder wasn't nearby, I decided to leave the theorizing for later and concentrated on my bath. I eased myself into the sink and sighed with relief as I sank up to my chest in delightfully warm and fragrant water. The aches from staying up again yet another night eased their way out of my exhausted muscles. I'd only meant to close my eyes for a moment.

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Something large and soft was prodding me in the shoulder. It turned out to be my daughter's finger. "Daddy? Daddy?"

The panic in her voice woke me with a start. "Whuh? Huh?" I realized where I was and sunk deeper into the water. To my relief, there were still plenty of bubbles covering me. "What are you doing in here?" I asked, with what may have been just a hint of annoyance.

"I'm sorry. I just didn't hear anything in here for a while and I called you but you didn't answer, so I came in and saw ya in the water, but your eyes were closed, and then I thought maybe that thing ya made might have hurt you, and I got scared, and ... and. ..."

Regretting my earlier tone of voice when I saw the worry in her eyes, I lifted a hand out of the bubbles and waved it until she paused in her run-on monologue. "Don't worry, I'm okay. I just dozed off. So what did you want to see me about?"

"Well, I found you some clothes I think might fit."

"Excellent! Where are they?"

"I got them right here. Just promise you won't get mad when you see them?"

I gave her what I hoped was a reassuring smile. "I promise, I won't get upset, no matter what."

She returned a somewhat fragile smile as she raised her hands above the edge of the sink. A plastic hanger dangled from each thumb. On one hanger was a white shirt with a wide, rounded collar. From the other hung a forest green ... dress.

It took me a minute to compose myself. I had given my word I wouldn't get upset, and I was determined to do so. I stubbornly hung on to my smile as I said, "Thank you, Beth. I really appreciate your help. Now, I want you to know, the next question I'm going to ask in no way takes away from my appreciation. It's just a casual question. Do you understand?"

I watched her work through what I had just said and felt a wave of relief when she nodded. "Good girl. Okay, the question I have is, do you happen to have, or know where might be found, any clothes that would fit me that aren't girl clothes?"

After a few moments, she slowly shook her head. "I'm really sorry, Daddy. When Mommy used to buy clothes for my dolls, she only got dresses for them."

Seeing her on the verge of tears nearly broke my heart. "Honey, you didn't do anything wrong. Your mother had very good taste in clothing. I feel quite honored you're willing to share them with me."

A ray of hope peeked through her sadness, "Really?"

"Yes love, really. I think what you picked out looks very ... pretty." I felt more relief when a small smile replace the tightness around her mouth.

"I'm so glad. Most of what I got is pink and lilac and colors like that, but I didn't think you'd like them, plus most of them are real frilly, which I wasn't sure if you'd like, so this is the best I could come up with."

"You did a wonderful job."

Her smile grew as she draped the dress over the edge of the drainboard, then laid the shirt on top of the dress. "I also brought you some socks and undies," she pulled the mentioned items from one pocket of her overalls and added them to the pile of clothes, "and some shoes too." A pair of shiny black shoes appeared from another pocket and were placed beside the clothes.

"Wow," I said when the minor conjuring act was concluded. "It looks like you've thought of everything. I think I can figure out the underwear and shirt and probably the dress, but there is one thing I'm unsure about."

"What's that?"

"Why would you wear a shirt over a dress?"

My daughter started giggling.

"What's so funny?" I asked.

"You don't wear the blouse over the dress, you wear it under."

"Oh," I said as I puzzled over the mystery of female attire. "Is there anything else I might need to know?"

"Well, the buttons of the blouse and the zipper on the dress need to go in the back."

I thought back to the times when I'd help my wife 'zip up'. The zipper up the back was familiar, but the buttons were something new to me. "Okay, think I've got it. Anything else?"

"Nope. Nothing I can think of, at least."

"Okay. Think you can step out of the kitchen for a few minutes so you father can finish his bath and get changed?"

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After scrubbing my body and face clean with a dish cloth, I rinsed off under the faucet in the still full sink (pulling the plug out seemed to require more strength than I now possessed), then dried off with a fluffy dish towel. I was shivering more than usual when I dropped the towel at my feet and looked down to pick it up again.

That's when I noticed my bare legs. They were barer than bare. Denuded, in fact. Not a single hair was to be found anywhere. I looked up to my groin and discovered the wild thatch I had been so proud of when puberty had hit me had vanished. Reaching under my armpits, I found them similarly hairless.

With more than a little trepidation, I reached for my scalp. I silently thanked whatever deities of small mercies there might be when I didn't find bare skin. Just to make sure, I tugged on a strand of damp hair and felt some of the anxiety that had been building up drain away when nothing came loose. Only then did I think to look for the missing hair.

Not finding anything in my oversized shirt or the towel, I took a look in the sink. there were still a lot of bubbles in the cooling water, but what I could see gave no indication it held my missing hair, which didn't mean it wasn't still hidden. Even after I gave up looking, I still puzzled over the cause of my strangely selective epilation. Could my exposure to the sigma radiation, combined with soaking in the bubble bath, have caused the loss of my body hair? That would explain why there was still hair on my head, since I hadn't bothered to wash it.

Still working through the possible uses of such a discovery, I walked over to the pile of clothes my daughter had left for me. Taking in a deep breath and letting it out slowly, I resigned myself to the situation I found myself in and decided to deal with things with as much grace and dignity as I could manage.

The white underpants didn't feel that different from my briefs when I pulled them on. I was a bit surprised they weren't loose around the waist or legs. I knew Beth's dolls were proportioned more to a young girl's dimensions rather than a baby's, but I still found myself wondering if my proportions had changed along with my height.

When I unrolled the socks, I discovered they had lace along the top, which probably shouldn't have surprised me as much as it did. They were as thick as the tube socks I often wore, but were surprisingly silky as I slid them on. Next came the shirt, which felt a little stiff, but still softer than I had been expecting. I tried it on with the buttons in front, but it felt awkward, so I decided to follow Beth's advice and wore it the other way around.

After a few minutes of struggling, I decided to give up on the buttons and looked down at the dress. It seemed to be mostly velvet with a silk ribbon around the waist.. One part of me wondered what in the world was I doing putting on a dolls dress. I found myself chuckling as another part said it was because I'm a careless idiot who's making the best out of a difficult situation. Being able to laugh at myself had gotten me through a lot of embarrassing moments. Hopefully, it would help me through this one.

The dress wasn't half as difficult as I had been expecting. The zipper was already down, so I just stepped into the opening and pulled it up around myself. It felt strange to be wearing something that clothed me, but left my legs bare. I reached behind my back and pulled the zipper up. At least, I tried. The zipper wouldn't budge.

"Beth!"

My daughter trotted into the kitchen from the living room. "Did you need some h-- oh, Daddy! You look so cute!"

Resisting the urge to tell her men looked handsome, not cute, I said, "Thank you, sweetheart. To answer the question you had started asking, I could definitely use your help. I never really expected to need to ask anyone this, but ... could you zip me up?"

"Sure! Just turn around." When I did as requested, I heard my daughter click her tongue. "Let me take care of this first." Before I could ask what she was referring to, I felt the buttons of the shirt being done up my back. A moment later I heard the zipper going up, then felt something tighten right below my chest.

"What are you doing back there?"

"Just tying a bow in your sash. Want some help with the shoes?"

Not wanting to seem unappreciative, I turned around, nodded my approval, and let her strap my feet into the strange footwear. Without any arch support, they weren't as comfortable as real shoes, but they fit reasonably well and would do for my current purposes. Just as I was about to ask her to help me to the floor, Beth pulled my socks down until the lace just cover the tops of the shoes.

"What are you doing now?"

"They're anklet socks. They're supposed to go like that."

"Ah, I see." I actually had no idea what she was talking about, but I decided she knew better than I did about her doll clothes. "So, is there anything else?"

"Well," she said, hesitating for a moment before continuing. "I was thinking you'd probably wanna get your hair dried, and I was gonna suggest using a blow dryer, then maybe brush your hair out and fix it up so it don't look all scragly."

I glanced at the sink full of water. "It probably wouldn't be a good idea to be operating a blow dryer, or anything else electronic, near here."

"I remember how you used to tell Mommy not to use anything like that in the bathroom. That's why I got my blow dryer set up in my bedroom."

"Oh," I said when I realized where I was going to be carried next.
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Beth sat me in a chair in front of what she described as her vanity. Just as I was about to look at my reflection, my daughter jumped between me and the mirror. "No, don't look yet!"

My feet started swinging in the air with frustration. It took an effort to keep them still, as well as to control my temper. "Sweetheart, I just want to see how I look."

"Please Daddy, let me finish first ... please?"

I recognized the pleading tone and decided to give in. My nerves were already shot and I didn't think I could deal with the pouting that would come next if I refused. She smiled gleefully when I agreed, found the dryer and a round brush, then deftly began drying and brushing out my hair.

Expecting to have my hair pulled and my scalp scraped by the brush, I was surprised by the gentle way she handled my hair. With the hypnotic hum of the dryer and the warmth of the air coming from it, combined with feel of the brush gliding through my hair, I began to feel drowsy. I didn't exactly fall asleep, but my eyes had drooped for a bit.

I opened my eyes when the hum of the dryer stopped, just in time to see my daughter open something green and plastic with one hand before clipping it into my hair. I reached up to feel what was holding the left side of my hair away from my ear. "What's this?"

She smiled as she fastened a similar object to the other side of my head. "It's a barrette."

Not finding this piece of information especially informative, I asked, "And why is it, or at this point they, doing in my hair?"

"You see, I was just trying to think of what would make your hair look nicer, then I remembered I had these barrettes that were like the *exact* same color as your dress, so I just had to try it, and they just look so cute! You'd just have to see it for yourself to know what I mean."

"Does that mean you're willing to let me see how I look now?"

She nodded and smiled. "You'll probably want to stand up on the chair so you can see how the outfit matches and get the full effect."

After helping me to my feet, she stepped out of the way, and I got my first real look at myself. To put it mildly, what I saw was a shock. Instead of seeing myself looking rather silly, I saw a pretty toddler, maybe a bit over a year old, staring back at me. It was about then the full realization of what had happened hit me.

That's the best excuse I can think of for why I fainted.