At the crèche where I work, there is a little girl named Vicky. She is so cute and sweet.
Yesterday, just before knocking off, I found her busy, trying to put on her shoes.
I approached her, and offered to help her. It was such a torrid time. The boots seemed to be smaller than her size.
It took me 5 minutes to help her wear them.
When we were done, after making a steps away from her, she called me said “Teacher, you made me wear banana”.
When I looked at her shoes, to my embarrassment, I realised I had misplaced her shoes – the banana style.
Upon trying to take off the shoes again, it took me 3 minutes.
After struggling so much I eventually managed to remove them and tried putting them on again, this time the correct way.
However, it was more difficult than the first time. When I finished, she said: “Teacher, these shoes are not mine!”
I really got angry, but since I work with little kids, I had to be patient and control my anger. I struggled to remove the shoes.
I then asked Vicky where her own shoes were and this is what she said:
“These shoes belong to my sister; my mum is the one who made me wear them in the morning today”.
This time I boiled in anger. But since I always do my job perfectly and whole heartedly, I helped her to put on the shoes again.
When we were done, Vicky pulled another shocker, yet again. “What about the socks, teacher?” she asked.
I wondered whether I should laugh or cry.
Politely and swiftly I asked her, “Where are the socks Vicky?”
She innocently replied: “I shoved them in my shoes, they are in front of my toes”
I resigned that day.