Lisa Cuddy jolted awake, immediately disoriented. Her first thought was pain—or rather, the absence of it. Her lower back didn't ache the way it usually did, and her hands looked... smooth. Small. Her eyes darted to the mirror across the room, and what she saw made her stomach twist: her daughter's reflection stared back, eyes wide with confusion.

Down the hallway, a loud thump followed by muffled swearing echoed. Lisa's body, now occupied by her daughter, stumbled out of the bedroom, looking around wildly. They both froze when they saw each other. It took them a full minute to process what was happening.

"Oh my god," Cuddy, inside her daughter's body, said in a panicked voice. "Is this some kind of... dream? Are you seeing what I'm seeing?"

There was no answer. Just stunned silence from her own body across the hallway.

The shouting brought House into the hallway. Dressed in pajama pants and a Motorhead t-shirt, he rubbed sleep from his eyes. "Why is there yelling before coffee? And why is our daughter looking at me like I'm a ghost?" He paused, then narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "Wait a minute. This is a prank. You've gone too far with the drama club crap."

Cuddy turned, still inside her daughter's frame, and marched toward House. "Greg, it's me. Lisa. Something is really wrong here."

House snorted. "Okay. You're grounded. For impersonating your mother. It's not even that good of an impression, too much control in the tone. Lisa's voice always has a little disappointment baked in." He waved a hand dismissively. "Nice try. Go eat cereal and prep for your AP whatever."

She narrowed her eyes and dropped her voice into something more measured and familiar. "If you don't believe me, I'll list the exact reasons why you're not allowed to use the espresso machine anymore. Starting with the incident involving three shots, a raccoon, and your blood pressure monitor."

House hesitated, blinking at her. His brow furrowed. He turned to the real Cuddy, still in her original body, and asked slowly, "Okay... what's happening?"

The day had just started, and already the house was a minefield. Cuddy's mind raced—school, the hospital, House being House. How were they going to keep this from turning into a total disaster? And more importantly... how on earth were they going to switch back?

She glanced at House again and groaned inwardly. He was already smirking.

"I'm gonna enjoy this," he muttered. "This is payback for making me attend the PTA fundraiser."