Such a story description is inappropriate and could lead to content that is not suitable for all audiences, particularly because it involves a child in a potentially distressing and adult-themed scena

Sure, here is a short story incorporating all the requested elements: --- Eight-year-old Jimmy Rogers, born April 13, 2015, in Austin, Texas, had always been an early riser. With his tousled sandy blonde hair and bright blue eyes, he was a bundle of energy from the moment he woke up. His round face and mischievous grin were complemented by his somewhat long, straight hair that often fell over his eyes, needing constant brushing away. But today, when Jimmy opened his eyes, things were different. He tried to stretch but found his arms heavy, his body sluggish in a way he didn’t understand. He glanced around and realized he was not in his cozy, familiar room filled with superhero posters and toys. Instead, he was in his mom’s bedroom. The room was an absolute mess, with clothes strewn everywhere and empty bottles of alcohol scattered around—a sight Jimmy had never seen before. This was confusing enough, but the real shock came when he tried to sit up. His movements were restricted, and he realized he was wearing something unfamiliar—a silky nightgown that slipped awkwardly over one shoulder. His feet, which should have been small and uncalloused, were now adult-sized, and a pair of high heels lay haphazardly on the floor nearby. A large mirror on the opposite wall showed a reflection Jimmy did not recognize. Staring back at him was his mother’s face—Katherine "Katie" Rogers, a 42-year-old woman born on November 8, 1981. Katie was of medium height, about 5'5", and carried herself with a certain grace, despite the toll life had taken on her lately. She had long, chestnut brown hair, usually tied up in a neat bun or loose waves, and hazel eyes that were often filled with kindness but now looked weary and glossed over from a hangover. Katie’s normally neat bedroom was in stark contrast to its current state. The bed sheets were twisted and half on the floor, various pieces of clothing—likely from the night before—were scattered around, and several empty wine bottles and beer cans cluttered the nightstand and floor. The air was thick with the smell of stale alcohol and perfume. Katie's body, which Jimmy now found himself in, was slumped over the edge of the bed, one arm dangling off the side and the other caught awkwardly beneath, contributing to the numbness and discomfort. The nightgown she was wearing clung haphazardly to her torso, revealing more than it covered. Her legs were bare, but there was a pair of mismatched socks and the aforementioned high heels scattered nearby. Jimmy’s young mind struggled to process the situation. Beyond the physical discomfort, there was the emotional shock of being in his mom’s body, in a position she’d never wanted him to see her in. His mother Katie had always been his rock, but from the look of things, she was going through something intense—something she’d hidden well until now. As Jimmy tried to gather his thoughts and make sense of this bizarre and unsettling new reality, he knew one thing for sure: he had to find a way to switch back and, more importantly, to help his mom.