Ethan stumbled back, nearly tripping over a pile of clothes. "This can't be real," he muttered, touching the unfamiliar face in the mirror. The soft voice that came out was not his own, but his mother's.

Ethan picked up a hairbrush, uncertain of what to do with it. "Okay, think like Mom," he whispered, glancing at the array of makeup and perfume. He attempted to apply lipstick, smudging it slightly, but the effect was surprisingly convincing.

"Morning, hon," he said without looking up. Ethan felt a jolt of panic but managed a smile. "Morning," he replied, trying to keep his voice steady. He quickly poured a cup of coffee, mimicking his mother's precise movements.

Ethan marveled at the freedom of being an adult. "I could get used to this," he thought, eyeing a chic red dress in a shop window. He entered the store, feeling the smooth fabric between his fingers, and decided to try it on.

"Wow," he murmured, turning this way and that. The dress fit perfectly, and for a moment, he felt a rush of admiration for his mother's taste. Ethan realized he had gained a new perspective on his mom's life.

Ethan took a deep breath, his mind buzzing with the day's events. "I wonder what Mom's day has been like in my body," he pondered, a smile playing at his lips. He felt a newfound respect for her and a deeper understanding of their family dynamic.