When l started school in September, 1969 as a rising five, my teacher was a lady called Mrs Scales. She was an excellent, very experienced teacher, whose firm but fair and high expectations of each child she taught was legendary. As there were nearly forty of us in the class, including two children with special needs, and she had no adult help, this was vital. Parents were kept outside the school gates and my mother says that every so often she would lecture the parents along the lines of: "don't worry about teaching your children to read and write, that's my job. Your job is to make sure your children can button up their coats, because I don't have time to button forty coats, dress and undress themselves and use a knife and fork." I think Mrs Scales would be turning in her grave at the idea of children not being able to use the toilet independently.
