"Look at my new short bangs!"

     Folding the weeks of laundry dumped on my bed, I heard TJ's feet purposefully plopping up the stairs as she aimed toward her bedroom. Alarms began sounding. "This can't be good," I thought, but the mountain of laundry kept me glued to the bedside. Five, ten, fifteen minutes passed before her feet hurried back down and took her directly into the kitchen seeking out her daddy.
    
     Eight months of ballet practice culminates today, TJ makes her debut as a pony to Father Christmas in "The Roar of Love", the ballet adaptation of The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe. She has had costume fittings, spacing rehearsals, and dress rehearsals. At home we practiced with stage makeup until she looked beautiful then combed, brushed, twisted, and pinned her long tresses into the perfect pony's tail. All this preparation so she could prance confidently, knowing she looked flawless and every hair would stay in place.

     TJ climbed onto the swivel stool and waited patiently for Bob's attention. Bob, enveloped in emptying the dishwasher, had not noticed TJ staring at him. "Daddy! Look at my new short bangs!"
     Bob glanced up, smiled, "Very nice TJ", and went back to the dishes.
     TJ, unhappy with her daddy's response continued. "Don't I look pretty?"
    "Very pretty, but you are always pretty inside and out."
     My stomach twisted and sank. I put away the last bit of laundry and apprehensively walked to the kitchen eyeing TJ's hair. Little sprigs of hair, like confused soldiers, stood at attention at the crown of her head. Longer strands fell over, wounded, to one side or the other. Her bangs, now 1/4 inch long, floundered across her forehead. She had chopped her hair from her forehead to her crown, leaving the rest of her long, now stringy hair, dangling on the sides."TJ? Did you cut your hair?"
     Her smile faded. "No." It's hard to believe at this point that Bob and I have been working so intensely with her on honesty and ridding her of that lying spirit which flows fluently from her tongue. With my hand on my hip and eyes drilling into her, she quickly changed. "Yes. I cut my hair."
     I was so taken back by her truthfulness I exclaimed, "TJ! THAT"S WONDERFUL!"
     A wide grin sprinted across her face. This was not the response she expected from me."Don't I look beautiful, Momma?
     Back-peddle. "I am so happy you told the truth, but I am very unhappy about your hair cut."
     Now we had Bob's attention. "She cut her hair? I thought she always had short bangs."
     I continued. "Your hair does not look good. If you wanted your bangs cut you should ask me to do that for you." Pulling up the stubble on her head I said, "These are not bangs and should not be bangs. This should be long hair."
     "I like my hair cut and I think I look beautiful." I gave her credit for her self confidence and explained that even though Daddy and I are pleased with her honesty, she would be punished and her hair would be cut.
      It's time to get ready for the performance. A combination of frustration and sadness choke my heart as I look at my little girl who will prance out onto the stage and be the only pony with a crew cut.