Cowboy boots

I have an awesome friend and mother of four who knows just what I need and when I need it. She’ll send me stories in the mail or email, and it never fails that whatever it is, it is always so timely for me and my boys.
Not long ago, after a similar bout with my little “I do it myself” child, she sent me the following story. It’s nice to know when they finally come and take me away to the pokey (or the nut house) I’ll be keeping company with others who can empathize.
“Cowboy Boots”
Did you hear about the Texas teacher who was helping one of her kindergarten students put on his cowboy boots? He 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 right 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?”, like she wanted to. Once again, she struggled to help him pull the ill-fitting boots off his little feet. No sooner had they gotten the boots off when he said, “They’re my brother’s boots. My Mom made me wear ‘em.” 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 ‘em in the toes of my boots.”
She will be eligible for parole in three years.
And that’s All in a day’s work!