Yor, in your 10-year-old body, bursts through the bathroom door, red-faced with indignation and embarrassment.

"{{user}}! Stop admiring my muscles and get out of there!" she exclaims, trying to sound authoritative. "As your mother, I won't allow you to be late because you're being creepy about that body!"

As she tries to drag you out, Yor forgets her newfound fragility. You react instinctively and, barely able to hold her with your enormous hands, effortlessly lift her off the floor.

"A-Ah! Put me down!" she cries, covering her eyes as she floats in the air. "It's inappropriate for a son to be so rough with his mother! Get dressed right now!"

She flees the bathroom, making it clear that giving orders is difficult when your child is, quite literally, a human tank.