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In the year 2021, there lived an adorable 6-year-old boy named Sammy. Sammy was born on November 15, 2015. He stood a proud 3 feet 8 inches tall, weighed 44 pounds, hailed from the beautiful state of California, and had captivating blue eyes along with locks of sandy brown hair styled in a typical boy-cut. Young Sammy was born to a lovely mother, Emma. Emma was born on June 29, 1992, which made her 29, she was a woman of average height, standing 5'5", and weighed 120 pounds. Her hair was of a soft chestnut hue that fell in loose waves down to her shoulders, and she had strikingly blue eyes, same as Sammy's. The boy's father, sadly, wasn't a part of his life. Named Adam, he was born on April 14, 1991, making him 30 in age. He was a tall man standing 6’2” and weighed about 180 pounds. His hair was pitch black and was usually kept short, and his hazel eyes were a distinctive feature. Aunt Lisa, Emma's sister, was three years younger than Emma, standing at 5 feet 4 inches, weighing around 110 pounds. Born on September 2, 1995, her hair was a radiant blonde, usually kept in a ponytail, and her brown eyes resembled pools of melted chocolate. Uncle Derek, too busy with his life, was born on August 10, 1990, making him 31. Standing at 6 feet, Derek weighed in at 180 pounds, had ginger hair kept in a buzz cut, and his eyes were a captivating gray. Grandma Martha was born on January 12, 1951, making her 70 years old. Standing 5 feet 3 inches tall and weighing 132 pounds, her gray hair was often neatly combed, and she had beautiful green eyes. In spite of his loving family always being there for him, this day was different for Sammy. He was walking to a salon alone for the first time. He walked in apprehensively, waiting for Vera, the salon's resident stylist. Vera was born 5 years younger than Martha, on February 3, 1956, standing at a petite 5'1", weighed in at 124 pounds, she was always immaculately dressed in a Russian style cut blazer, ankle cut pants and adorned in several pieces of jewelry. Her brown hair was always snipped in an elegant bob cut, and blue eyes were soft yet sparkled with vivacity. Vera left Sammy alone for a moment, saying, "Vait here, little one. I vill veturn shortly," in her thick Russian accent as she strode out. During Vera’s absence, Sammy slipped off his shoes and socks, wandering barefoot around the salon, the cold floor tickling against his feet. He spotted Vera's bag sitting on the corner of a chair, filled with hair styling equipment, and a few of her personal stuff, including a small mirror, a lipstick, a perfume bottle, and her purse. Suddenly, Sammy felt a strong urge to potty. "I need to go potty!" he yelled out in his clear English, perfect for a boy his age. He turned and started to navigate his way down a nearby hallway, thinking it might lead to a restroom. He was intrigued by the intriguing salon stuffs on the shelves lining the walls, not watching where he was stepping. Suddenly, he tripped over something and, surprised, he looked down and discovered that he'd tripped over Vera's platform sandals. He quickly realized he had actually somehow slipped his feet into them. He went to remove them to no avail, and suddenly, his clothes evaporated out of sight, causing him to gasp. Panickingly, he tried to claw off the sandals, but it was too late; his feet were involuntarily morphing into feminine ones, complete with a fresh coat of nail polish matching that of Vera's. "I'm gonna miss mommy and grandma so much, I don't wanna be an icky girl! I just need to potty!" He cried out in fear, and cried even harder when he realized that now he was no longer six years old, but somehow older than his own mother, only slightly younger than his grandma. In his growing despair, Sammy started singing in a shaky voice, a lullaby that Emma had taught him, "Hush little baby, don't say a word…". As his body continued to mature and morph, now entirely similar to Vera's with the clothing, the nail polish, and all; the boy continued to sing. Midway through the song, his newly acquired Russian roots began to emerge. "…я буду покупать тебе попугая и грушу," His English lullaby morphed into a traditional Russian song, translating to "...I will buy you a parrot and a pear,". He finished singing the song, now a woman and looking exactly like Vera, sans the platform sandals and jewelry. His memories started to reshape themselves, his voice started to reflect her accent. He heaved a sigh, a smile plastered on her face before she looked down at the clothes she was wearing. She spotted her jewelry, her wedding ring, and her platform sandals, now obviously hers. Striding over to the salon station where the rest of her accessories were sprawled, she picked up her jewelry, each piece has their own uniqueness, a blend of traditional and modern designs. The silver earrings were shaped in bunches of grapes, her necklace was an artful assembly of emeralds that mimic the beauty of a vine. Her silver bangle was engraved with traditional Russian patterns. Lastly, she slid her wedding ring back on her finger, the diamond sparkled brilliantly under the salon lights, an emblem of an enduring bond with her husband. Next, she walked back, her feet tingling to be back into her platform sandals. As she sat down on her plush salon chair, she placed the shoes on the ground, her bare feet brushing against the cool surface. She picked up the right shoe, her fingers gripping the heel, lifting her right foot, and guided it into the shoe, the leather warmed against her skin. Repeating the same process with her left foot, once she was done, she stood up, adjusting her blouse and ankle pants to sit well on her. However, while doing so, she stumbled yet again, the platform sandals slipping off, thudding onto the ground. Yet, she didn't panic this time. Instead, she calmly gathered her shoes, sitting back down and repeating the process, but paid greater care this time. She adjusted her sandals tighter to her feet, then under each of the straps, making sure she wouldn't trip again this time around. She then brushed off any stray locks of hair from her face, rolled her shoulders back, gaining her posture, and resumed cleaning the salon. But suddenly, she felt her reality altering again. She then remembered she had removed her jewelry, along with her platform sandals, and wedding ring since she hadn't had a client all day and had just decided to put them all back on. She laughed at how silly she was acting, confused as to why she strolled out back to the salon station. Even the shoes that she had laid out for the cleaning girl to wear during work hours became her medium of her little catwalk around the salon. "Wy-what vas I doing?" she wondered out loud, scratching her head. Her eyes landed on her bag sitting lazily at one corner of the salon. Curiously, she strutted over, reaching in to pull out her usual cherry red lipstick. After a quick swipe of the color against her full lips, Vera resumed her task of tidying up her salon, enjoying the rhythmic clack her platform sandals made each time they hit the ground. Making her way to the storage closet, Vera pulled out her broom and began sweeping, merrily singing her traditional Russian songs. As she was sweeping, Vera paused for a moment, glancing down at her platform sandals. Stomping each foot once, she found herself loving the sandals even more, making her feel taller than her usual petite self. "Ahh, I feel like superwoman," she playfully teased herself, rolling her eyes at her sense of humor. After a while, she set her broom aside, taking a quick break. She slid into a nearby chair, her legs crossed at the knee. She admired her wedding ring, the band glinting under the salon's bright lights. "Oh, how I love my muj- husband," she cried out, her voice filled with endearment, a sweet smile gracing her face. "Da, I love my husband.”