When I wake up, I become my husband.
The moment I touched my pecs, I let out a prairie dog scream.
And my husband was wrapped in my pink nightgown and spinning around in the bedroom: "Honey, how do you fasten your bra?!"
Despite my height of 183cm, I went to hold a department meeting for him and found that his colleagues privately called him "The King of Volume".
He used my small body of 160cm to have afternoon tea with my girlfriends, and was gossiped about to the point where I doubted my life.
I originally thought I could get it back after a day -
Until my mother-in-law knocked on the bedroom door.
"Son, why do you use your wife's lipstick?"
Just... Is it too late to pretend to be mentally ill now?
