In a dimly lit living room, the remnants of a small family gathering linger as the adults chat over coffee. Unnoticed by them, a 12-year-old boy named Max and his eight-year-old sister, Lily, have slipped out of their bedrooms, driven by curiosity. They tiptoe down the stairs, giggling quietly as they inch closer to the living room where a stage hypnotist is performing for their parents and friends.

Two adults are seated next to each other in chairs. The room is dark except for a single candle. The hypnotist's voice is smooth and rhythmic, and the children, hidden behind the door, find themselves entranced.

The hypnotist tells his subjects, "...your souls are lifting from your body and they are settling into the candle They will remain there until I blow the candle out at that type your souls will return. But souls have a poor sense of direction and you won't receive your own soul, but the soul of the person closest to you."

The children watch the hypnotist, his voice lulling the adults into a state of deep relaxation. Max and Lily, fascinated, lean closer, unknowingly getting caught in the hypnotist's suggestions meant for the adults.

Suddenly, the hypnotists blows out the candle. The house is dark for a few seconds. When the lights return.

Lily tells Max, "This I boring. Let's go to bed before they see us."

Max nods his head and follows Lily back to their rooms. Max sticks his thumb into his mouth as they walk. Max enters Lilly's room and takes off his clothes. He pulled the shirt over his head and lets his pants fall to the ground. Finally, he pulls off his briefs. Max didn't think twice about the garments he was removing. He looks in Lily's drawers and pulls out a pair of panties. He pulled the smart garment up his legs. If it wasn't so stretchy, it would have never made it.

Then he walked to the closet to get the pajamas. It was Lily's favorite pink unicorn pajamas. He tries to pull the pajama leg up, but his foot gets stuck in the too-small leg hole. It confused him. Undaunted he tried to get the pajama top on to have almost as little luck. Panicked he tried another pair of pajamas and found similar success.

A few minutes later, in a panic, Max bolts from behind the door, tears streaming down his face. He clutches a pair of too-small, bright pink pajamas adorned with unicorns. His lanky frame, only wearing the tight panties of his little sister, trembles as he runs to his mother.

"Mommy!" he cries out, his voice cracking with a mix of fear and confusion. "Mommy, why don't my unicorn jammies fit? They always fit! I can't get them on, and I need them!" His voice is high-pitched and frantic, filled with the kind of emotional intensity typical of an eight-year-old girl.

His mother, bewildered, looks down at him. "Max? Sweetheart, what are you talking about?"

"I'm not Max, Mommy! I'm Lily! And these are my favorite pajamas!" he insists, holding up the tiny garment, his tears falling faster as he tries to comprehend why the clothes that usually fit him perfectly are now impossibly small.

Meanwhile, back at the door, Lily stands quietly in her oversize Batman pajamas. The legs are much too long. She is holding the pants up with her hands so they don't fall to the floor. Her brow furrowed, trying to make sense of the situation. She looks at her hands, now smaller than she remembered them. A wave of confusion sweeps over her. "Why do I feel so... different?" she whispers to herself, her voice unusually low and steady. "Why are girls always crying?"