OCD Action

Nimrod
Key Master

A teacher was helping one of her reception class pupils put on his boots. He had asked for help and she could see why.

Even with her pulling and him pushing, the little boots still didn't want to go on. By the time they got the second boot on she had worked up a sweat.

She almost cried when the little boy said, “Teacher, they're on the wrong feet.” She looked, and sure enough, they were.

It wasn't any easier pulling the boots off than it was putting them on. She managed to keep her cool as together they worked to get the boots back on, this time on the correct feet.

He then announced, “These aren't my boots.”

She bit her tongue, rather than get right in his face and scream, “Why didn't you say so?”, as if she wanted to.

Once again she struggled to help him pull the ill-fitting boots off his little feet. No sooner had they got the boots off when he said, “They're my brother's boots. My Mum made me wear them”.

Now she didn't know if she should laugh or cry. But she mustered up what grace and courage she had left to wrestle the boots on his feet again.

Helping him into his coat, she asked, “Now, where are your mittens?”

He said, “I stuffed them in the toes of my boots so I didn't loose them.”
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Don't you just love the logic of small children?

Fri Feb 19 2010 9:30:32 #
Unregistered

Hi caps

Lovely one. Actually, as I slowly got better after leaving the Bethlem I slowly realized how wonderfully helpful their logic is. All the parents in my street used to let their children help with my gardening (in return for sweets) and their fun and laughter helped me a lot. I even got caught in the cross fire of a water fight once which would have been taboo for me with an adult. My crowning moment was when two of the five-year old girls knocked on the door one sunny morning and asked my husband if I would come out to play. They told him: 'tell Anne she can't be sitting alone indoors on such a lovely sunny day.'
ahhh

Fri Feb 19 2010 10:14:34 #
Unregistered

I have never forgotten an incident when we took my son Martin out for the day, he was about 6 years old and just old enough to take himself to the gents on his own. We waited outside for him until he proudly emerged then of course with contamination OCD I just had to ask "did you wash your hands?".
"Didn't need to mum"
"why not?"
"I kept my gloves on"

Fri Feb 19 2010 10:38:51 #