I grew up labelled.
As a baby I cried. Let's correct that. I screamed. So, the first label I acquired was “SCREAM-ER!”
As a three-year old I was a bright kid. But, the one a parent despairs of, and is secretly desperate to farm off to a nursery, pre-school, or kindergarten. Truth be told, anywhere that will take them. And, as soon as possible.
When my mother collected me from nursery, by the end of the week, they were using a certain word to describe me.
“BELLIGERENT.”
I wasn't allowed to return. My mother wasn't happy. She now became the screamer and blamed my father. Apparently he'd been playing a game with me. He'd knock me over and then encourage me to do the same to him. Unfortunately, when I did this to other children they didn't understand it was a game, or find it funny, like I did.
Nor did the teachers. Read More
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