Beauty in the day: my counselor/psychologist/bff was in classrooms having the “safe touch” talk. She started out in the 1st grade class, and by necessity (by design, really), used a few anatomical terms for body parts. One tyke thought to “challenge” her choice of vocabulary, so my friend challenged her right back. “All of our body parts have names,” she explained. She pointed to her nose, and the group was able to properly identify it. She pointed to her knee – again, they were on-target. She pointed to her foot, and the little challenger, who was beginning to enjoy this game, shouted out, “Shoe!” My ever-patient friend, rather than correcting her, agreed with her answer, and then decided to give her another opportunity. She removed her shoe, and pointed again. The little one was now at genius levels, and exclaimed, “Sock!”
Beauty in the day: it’s the little 1st grade Aussie. He came in today with a concern that his “arrow shirt” may have been abducted from the Lost and Found. We talked about thoughts a bit, and discussed the possible meaning of hearsay. And then I sent him back to class.
He returned not long after, looking to have a word with the school counselor. He wasn’t in his office, but then my good mate found him on his own, and the next thing I knew, the counselor was at my desk with the lad. “Ms. Nordstrom, can you help my friend by taking down his description of his lost shirt?” I said I would (of course). He talked about the background color, and the arrows that went back and forth and up and down. He gave a good description, right up to the “and inside there is a little tag, and I thinks it says 100% cotton”. Directly following was this choice (and important) bit of intel: “and the shirt is a size 6, but the boy who may have taken it is in the fourth grade, and it will not fit him.”
Somewhere out there is a 10-year-old toting around a little arrow shirt. Or not.