It was a chilly Sunday evening in December.  The snow-blanketed front yard of the Mayhill house was postcard quality…except for just one minor detail.  “Cadence! Get down here this instant young lady!”  Brenda Mayhill placed her tongue gently between her teeth and bit down, hard.  This was the third time this week her six year old daughter had built a snowman in the front yard, for the entire neighborhood to see.  She’d build them while Brenda was at work. It wasn’t as if Brenda liked working on Christmas Eve, but when you’re raising a child by yourself, you do what you need to do to survive. The sound of multi-patterned footsteps combined with stomps resonated over Brenda’s head.  She moved toward the banister of the cherry wood staircase and moved her eyes upward.  One tiny, and pink bare foot soon appeared on the top stair.  Then, cautiously, another joined.  Suddenly, as if a trampoline had spontaneously appeared under the step, both feet moved at once and hopped down three more stairs in unison.  “Cadence! We walk down the stairs slowly and gracefully, like a young lady, remember?” Brenda kept her tone even, but was screaming on the inside.  How many times did she have to verbally thump this concept into her daughter’s head before it would sink in?  “Sorry Mommy.” Cadence straightened her back and took each remaining step with care.  Upon reaching the main floor of the three story home, she gazed up at her mother, who looked none to pleased with her…again. 

     Brenda inspected Cadence’s appearance and sighed. Blonde strands of hair scattered this way and that, sprouting out of the small girl‘s head like straw from a pitchfork. A crumpled brown leaf, marred by winter’s presence, lingered in the knotted curls for a moment, before falling to the beige berber carpet.  Small twigs adorned Cadence’s patchwork pajamas like ornaments on a haphazardly decorated Christmas tree.  Cadence turned, slowly lowered her bottom to sit upon the last step of the staircase, and bowed her head.  She placed her hands delicately under her chin, and rested her elbows upon her knees. “Mommy really I’m sorry but I just hadda,” she mumbled.  Brenda closed her eyes.  “Cadence, it is had to, not ‘hadda’, and you did not have to. Please tell me why there is another snowman in the yard when I specifically told you it was a no-no?  I‘ll discuss this with the babysitter later, but I want you to tell me why you think it was okay.”  Brenda folded her arms patiently and waited for a response.