The agony and the ecstasy, four year old style

    The wails of agony echoed off the tile clad walls, grating on my nerves. Writhing and sobbing, the world was coming to end fast for my Evelynn. Her pain had rendered her incapable of coherent thought; nothing but her affliction filled her mind and consequently her actions. I begged, pleaded and became irritable. You have not experienced true torture until you have tried to brush a four year old's hair. I don't know who was in greater anguish, me or Evelynn. Nothing could satiate her. Nothing.
    Fine, I was not going to brush her long hair or braid ('twist' as she calls it) her hair any more. This was ridiculous. I couldn't braid it because it needed to be brushed. I couldn't brush it because it had not been braided. And that child has the tenderest scalp I have ever come across, not to mention that she also has the finest hair. She will get at least four tangles before a half hour has past since I brushed it. I decided to cut it off. All of it. I cut five inches off her little head of hair. I was shooting for four inches, but a well timed interruption from Caelan resulted in the extra inch. A younger sister can always cause mischief just in teasing and taking what isn't hers, including the hair brush that Evelynn was holding for me.
    But now the cut has been done. She loves it. No tangles. No promise of tangles in her now short, fine hair. She is very pleased with the outcome. I'm not. She looks too grown up. Where is the precious face of my LITTLE girl? It's now shrowded in a cute, older hair cut. My eyes burn when I look at her. Her long hair was not good for her. The short hair is. Her long hair was not good for me, but neither is the short hair. I feel I've been cheated from this experience. I'm supposed to be happy. Right?