The teacher who was helping
Did Johnny put on his boots? He requested assistance, and she could understand why.
Even with her pulling and his pushing, the boots refused to fit.
She’d worked up a sweat by the time the second boot was on.
When Little Johnny said that, she almost whimpered.
“They’re on the incorrect feet, Teacher.”
She glanced, and they were, indeed.
It was no easier to take the boots off than it was to put them on.
She kept her calm as they worked together to get the boots back on—this time on the proper feet.
Little Johnny then declared:
“These aren’t my boots,” I say.
She bit her tongue rather than screaming in his face.
“Why didn’t you say so?” she wondered. She fought once again to assist him in removing the ill-fitting boots.
“Those are my brother’s boots,” Little Johnny explained. “My mother pushed me to wear them.”
She couldn’t decide whether to laugh or weep.
She then summoned the elegance to wrestle the boots back onto his feet.
“Now, where are your mittens?” she said.
“Oh, I placed them between the toes of my boots,” Little Johnny said.
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