Sylvia prided herself on being a mother who could roll with life’s punches. She had survived sleepless nights with a colicky baby, endured a teenager with a grunge phase that smelled like a locker stuffed with cheese, and lived through Hayden’s disastrous attempt to keep a pet iguana in his closet. She thought she had seen it all.

But nothing in the world could have prepared her for what she found when she stepped into his shiny new apartment.

The living room had impressed her at first glance---modern furniture, neatly arranged throw pillows, and even curtains that matched instead of being a bedsheet thumbtacked to the wall. Her son had grown up! She had nearly teared up. But then she reached his bedroom.

On the neatly made bed sat a woman. A woman of about Sylvia’s own age---sixty-one, if Sylvia had to guess---who wore only a red bra, matching red panties, and a pair of black pantyhose. She had an asymmetric bob haircut with streaks of gray, the kind of cut that said, *I’m edgy but also clip coupons.*

Sylvia froze in the doorway. Her handbag slipped down her arm, and she gripped the frame like it was the last stable thing in the world. “Oh! Oh my goodness, I---I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to… interrupt. Is this…” she blinked, “Is this… bridge night?”

The woman turned to her with calm eyes. “Mom, don’t you recognize me? It’s me. Hayden.”

Sylvia gawked. “What?”

“I swapped bodies with Susan Podell---Mrs. Podell from across town. She gave me some money to buy this apartment. Isn’t it fabulous?”

Sylvia blinked three times, rapidly. Her son---her flesh and blood, her baby---was apparently inhabiting the body of a half-naked woman old enough to own a senior bus pass.

Hayden smiled proudly and leaned forward, making the bed creak. “She also gave me her full wardrobe, Mom. You should see the blouses---silk! Real silk. And the skirts, the dresses… absolute treasures.”

Sylvia sat down heavily on the corner of the bed, stunned. “Hayden, darling… did you ever… *want* to be a woman before this?”