Mike Black could have sworn he was missing a pair of white sneakers, not to mention a pair of jeans, a couple shirts, and a handful of underthings.
Mike looked in his mirror for seemingly the thousandth time that morning, and once again decided that he hated his new hair and his new boobs. They must have been driving him crazy. He needed to finish getting ready for school, but he also needed to figure out where all of his clothes had disappeared to.
Then he turned around and saw a pile of clothes he didn't recognize lying on the floor next to his bed. He picked up the shirt, a football jersey, and read the name and number out loud. "Namath, number twelve."
Something struck Mike as familiar. The phrase "my favorite Joe Namath jersey" entered his head, but who was Joe Namath? Mike put the shirt down on his bed, and a few things happened simultaneously. The jersey shrank to Mike's new size, Mike shifted into his new gender, and Margaret opened the front door of the Black household and walked in.
"Oh right, my Joe Namath jersey," the newly-minted Myra said to herself. Myra's dad had always been a fan, and he had passed the tradition on to her, or at least that's what reality was for now. It would soon change, as Margaret had already made her way up the stairs and into Myra's room.
The transaction that this room had already witnessed twice repeated itself, as Margaret slipped out of her sandals, dropped her skirt, and pulled off the rest of her clothes. Then she grabbed underwear from the closet, but found herself donning the football jersey, loose jeans, and sneakers that had been left behind by Mike.
Margaret Black pulled a lock of hair in front of her face as it went from brown to gold and sighed once again at the stupidity of her wish, as the third bust of the day expanded to DD. Wearing the Joe Namath jersey her father had bought her always made Margaret feel better, and today would definitely be a day where she would need to feel better.
