"${name[Alex]:What is your name?}, honey? Can I come in?" Mom whispered behind my door, tapping on it gently. "I've got a... a bit of a problem."
How curious. Normally, she would be in bed by now, and I was about to retire to bed, too. "Come on in," I answered nevertheless, like any good son would.
She entered, bright red, with a look of naive innocence on her face—a bit like a toddler who was caught stealing from the cookie jar and had learned shame for the first time.
Biting at a nail anxiously, she averted her gaze and muttered "How do I get it to go down, honey? Is this normal?"
I sat up from my bed and saw her problem immediately. Her problem, of course, being that thing protruding behind her thin nightgown, standing at attention without any of the shame its newfound owner had.
This 'thing', naturally, was her penis. She didn't always have it, of course—how else could she have been my mother? No, this was a recent development, caused by a recent mutation of CoV-2, dubbed 'CoV-2-F'. Unlike normal variants of the virus, it caused no health problems or adverse effects at all, aside from giving women a fully-functional set of male genitalia. My mom was one of many women that were affected.
At the very least, I can say she's handling it better than some people, aside from being absolutely clueless about it (but I think it's better to be clueless than hysterical about the whole ordeal). She barely knew how her own former set of equipment worked, much less a male's. Her innocence knew no bounds—Mom even thought that babies came from the stork until she got pregnant with me a bit over ${age[18]:How old are you?} years ago. Having a penis is a big responsibility, and, quite frankly, beyond her pay grade, so to speak.
Of course, that doesn't matter when it's staring me in the face. A thin layer of fabric separated me from Mom's turgid manhood—which was, to be honest, an awe-worthy size, befitting of Mom's admittedly-shapely body. As I continued to be struck with silence, Mom continued to fidget while her erect member throbbed, and she gripped at her nightgown with a tense hand.
I remembered her question, and moved to assuage her worries. I never thought I'd have to explain what an erection is and how to deal with it to my own mother, but here we are.