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Question: Story: Write me a story the way I type about 5 year old John on his first day of school. His 21 year old mom had just dropped him off. Please have John be black haired and brown eyed wearing a t-shirt, jeans and light up shoes. Please have John's teacher be Mrs. Thompson. She was a 35 year old woman who had been teaching for 11 years. Please have Mrs. Thompson have brown hair and brown eyes and have hair tied up in a messy bun wearing glasses as well as a small blazer over a black blouse, knee length tight sweatpants and black flip flops with all her nails painted red as a wedding ring adorned her ring finger. Please have Mrs. Thompson say the quote "Good afternoon class.My name is Mrs. Thompson. I know we're gonna have lots of fun together. I can't wait to meet all of you wonderful students" Please have the bell for recess ring as Mrs.Thompson announces for the first day of school that her and all the other teachers are going to participate in the recess with the students. Please have John look up at all the other students and his teacher intimidated. Earlier that day, Mrs. Thompson had ordered all the students to take off their shoes so John was grabbing his and slipping them on when he accidentally bumped into Mrs. Thompson as she was holding her classroom keys and closing the door behind her. Please have John notice he's now wearing glasses which he doesn't need as he removes them causing his vision to go blurry forcing him to put them back on as he realizes he's taller and feels bigger. Please have John look down to see a pair of mounds on his chest as well as a blazer and blouse and knee length skin tight sweatpants and black flip flops as well as a wedding ring on his now female finger. Please have John look in a hallway mirror seeing his new mature reflection with his childlike innocence shining through his new mature female eyes. Please have John say the quote "Mrs. Thompson? Why am I big? Why___ am I now the teacher and why do I see everybody else as my students?" covering his mouth hearing his new mature female voice and instead of his own as he played with his hair that was now tied up in a bun a little. Please have John drop the keys belonging to Mrs. Thompson on the floor as he walked in the direction of the playground still confused feeling extremely uncomfortable as he looked down and saw his female feet with the red nail polish clip clopping in the sandals as he walked with his steps slow and awkward as the feeling of the flip flops on his feet made him uncomfortable. Please have John grab a basketball and walk to a secluded hoop area as he starts shooting hoops when he suddenly misses a shot and the ball start rolling very fast. Please have John kick his flip flops off and start running towards it barefoot taking forever to catch up with the ball in his new older body as he eventually got the ball back and walked back to the hoop area. Please have John not notice the flip flops he kicked off earlier in his walkway accidentally slipping his feet back into them as he looked down at his new mature female feet with the red painted nails again and started crying when he suddenly felt a shock run through his brain. Please have John say the quote as his memories morphs his words midsentence as he slowly only remembers being Mrs. Thompson "Oh no! Please! I want my____ What the? Why on earth am I holding a basketball? I should be attending to my students. Wait where are my keys? And my wedding ring? My husband is going to kill me. Come on Bridget! You've been teaching for 11 years you know better" in her new mature female teacher voice as she walked through the playground barefoot. Please have Mrs. Thompson eventually find her flip flops slipping them back on and happily clip clopping towards a young boy and handing him the basketball. Please have Mrs. Thompson say the quote "Here you go sweetie. You look like you like playing basketball" as she clip clopped back inside the school grabbing her wedding ring off the ground and slipping it back on her finger and grabbing her classroom keys and putting them in her sweatpants pocket. Please have Mrs. Thompson say the quote "Oh my goodness Bridget. You really did it this time. Thank Heaven I found my keys. It would be so embarrassing if I had no way to get in my classroom and me and my students were stranded. Also why was I barefoot anyway? How inappropriate of me" having no memory of being 5 year old John
In a small town, five-year-old, black-haired and brown-eyed John, was nervous. His mother had just dropped him off for his first day of school. He looked at the big school building intimidatingly, his heart pounding in his little chest. He wore a T-shirt, jeans and a pair of light-up shoes, glowing with every step he took. As he was greeted by his teacher, his eyes widened in nervous anticipation. Mrs. Thompson, a 35-year-old woman who had been teaching for 11 years, awaited her new students with warm smiles. Her brown hair was tied up in a messy bun, wearing glasses that sat perfectly on her face. She wore a small blazer over a black blouse, knee-length sweatpants and black flip flops whose clique clop could be heard throughout the hallway. Adorning her ring finger was a gleaming wedding ring. "Good afternoon class," Mrs. Thompson began, immediately softening John’s fears, "My name is Mrs. Thompson. I know we're going to have lots of fun together. I can't wait to meet all you wonderful students." Just as Mrs. Thompson finished her energizing introduction, the bell for recess rang. She announced to the small assembly of students that along with the other teachers, she was going to participate in recess with them. John, still feeling a bit intimidated, looked at the other students and Mrs. Thompson with newfound excitement and fear. Earlier, Mrs. Thompson had asked all students to remove their shoes for an exercise. As the recess bell rang, John knelt down and as he was fastening his colorful light-up shoes, accidentally bumped into Mrs. Thompson causing him to momentarily patch. His vision blurred momentarily but as he removed his glasses, which he didn’t usually need, he felt taller, bigger. Confused, he put back on his glasses and his vision corrected. As he looked down, he noticed blazer, blouse and knee-length sweatpants on his body. A moment of realization hit him when he saw a pair of black flip flops on his feet, nails painted red and a wedding ring on his finger. He was in Mrs. Thompson’s body. "Mrs. Thompson? Why am I big? Why am I now the teacher and why do I see everybody else as my students?" John said, his voice now shared the mature tone of Mrs. Thompson’s. He played with his hair, now tied up in a messy bun, signalling his new persona. John, or Mrs. Thompson, was startled. As he clumsily fumbled with the classroom keys he held, the jolt of realizing his transformation left him flustered. He was not comfortable in this new strange experience. He was afraid and didn’t understand what was happening. A basketball caught his eye in the playground. Holding it, he walked barefoot to a secluded hoop. But being unfamiliar with the bigger body, he missed a shot and the ball rolled away. Ignoring the flip flops by his feet, he ran to catch the ball. But his newly acquired body made it difficult. John returned to the hoop, slipping his feet again in the flip flops lying in his path. Feeling a shock running through his brain, a flood of memories morphed his thoughts, changing his perception slowly. "Oh no! Please! I want my...What the? Why on earth am I holding a basketball? I should be attending to my students. Wait where are my keys? And my wedding ring? My husband is going to kill me. Come on, Bridget! You've been teaching for 11 years, you know better!" He said, his confusion reducing with every word. As her memories returned, Mrs. Thompson found her flip flops and hopped happily towards a young boy, placing the basketball in his arms. "Here you go, sweetie. You look like you like playing basketball," Mrs. Thompson said, her welcoming smile back on her face. Mrs. Thompson walked back to the school, retrieved her wedding ring and classroom keys. Sliding the ring back onto her finger, she sighed with relief and said, "Oh my goodness, Bridget. You really did it this time. Thank Heaven I found my keys. It'd be so embarrassing if I had no way to get in my classroom and me and my students were stranded. Also, why was I barefoot anyway? How inappropriate of me." The day went on as any first day of school usually went, albeit with a small twist for five-year-old John, who had experienced an unusual, extraordinary first day of school that he would never forget.
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