You Can't Play T-Ball in a Tutu

You Can't Play T-Ball in a Tutu

Elizabeth Taylor Nottingham, such a long name for 9-yr. old girl with rosy cheeks, violet eyes, and hair as black as freshly laid tar. Mr. Nottingham was not surprised when his wife chose to name their daughter after the famous actress.

Elizabeth was the youngest of four children and the only girl. Her parents told her she was a “pleasant surprise,” but by age seven, she wished she’d been born a boy. She hated her name and wanted everyone to call her by her middle name. Taylor sounded like a boy’s name and wouldn’t be so bad. Unfortunately, everyone had already started calling her Lizzy, and she hated that even more than Elizabeth.

As an infant, Lizzy liked playing with toy trucks and building blocks, and when she was old enough, playing T-Ball and climbing trees with her brothers. Her oldest brother, Timmy, was 15 and didn’t like his baby sister playing T-ball with them, but Justin and Brian, who were 13 and 11, didn’t mind as long as Lizzy didn’t get in their way. Her mom, on the other hand, didn’t want her to play at all.

Mrs. Nottingham had only one daughter and she wanted her to play with dolls and dress like a little girl should dress. Everything in Lizzy’s wardrobe had flowers and ruffles. After Lizzy ruined more than a few dresses climbing trees and playing T-Ball, Mr. Nottingham suggested it would be easier on the family budget if she would just buy Lizzy jeans and sneakers.

Now that Lizzy had started school, and still clinging to the hope that her daughter would start to like all the things little girls were supposed to like, Mrs. Nottingham enrolled her in ballet class for girls 7-9 years of age. Lizzy tried everything short of running away to change her mother’s mind, but the whining and pouting didn’t dissuade her a bit. Mrs. Nottingham was adamant, “This will be good for you. It will teach you balance and grace. You can’t be a tomboy forever.”

On Tuesday, Mrs. Nottingham picked Lizzy up after school and drove directly to the ballet class to register. There were six other girls her age giggling and whispering as she walked in. Lizzy’s long black hair was tied in pigtails and she was wearing jeans and sneakers, while the other girls were dressed in pink leotards and tights. “I don’t like this,” she said to her mom.

“This is just registration, Lizzy. Take a seat over there and wait while I sign you in.” Lizzy picked a seat away from the other girls and waited.

When all the mothers had registered, the ballet teacher, who looked as old as Lizzy’s mom, asked everyone to take a seat. Lizzy wasn’t paying much attention to what the lady in the black leotard and black tights was saying until she heard, “I expect all of you to come to class next week in a pink tutu, pink tights and pink ballet slippers. Have a great weekend, and I’ll see you all next Tuesday.”

As they walked out the door, Lizzy said, “There’s no way I’m wearing that stuff!” Lizzy could see the line forming between her mom’s eyebrows and she knew instantly what was coming. “You’ll wear it and I don’t want to hear anymore about it.” Of course, Lizzy pouted the entire way home and wouldn’t speak, but she knew her mom wouldn’t change her mind.

The following week she had to wear the pink tutu, pink tights and pink slippers to class. All the girls wore the same outfits, and their hair was pulled up on top of their heads in little buns that Lizzy thought looked like cow pies she would find lying in the fields. Lizzy wore her hair in pigtails. She realized she was fighting a losing battle with her mom so she tried to do everything the teacher told her to do, but her arms and legs wouldn’t cooperate. When she played T-ball, she was fast and rounded the bases without stumbling. She could climb trees and never fall. But this was hard. This was the worst form of humiliation she could imagine. The only thing worse would be if her brothers saw her wearing a tutu. So far, she had managed to avoid them, but for how long.

By the fourth class, Lizzy was still stumbling through turns and pirouettes, but her mother sat proudly on the sidelines with the rest of the doting mothers who all had cameras glued to their faces. Lizzy tried to be graceful, but it was no use. She’d never be good at it and she didn’t care. If she was a tomboy the rest her life, then so be it.

When they arrived home, Lizzy’s brothers were playing ball in the field next to their house. Lizzy froze and waited until she was sure they weren’t looking. She jumped out of the car and bolted upstairs. She pulled on a pair of shorts over her tutu and ran out the door. She stopped when her mom yelled, “Lizzy, you forgot to take off your ballet slippers. Get in here right now!” But it was too late. When she got to the kitchen door, the slippers were already covered in mud.

“Look what you’ve done to your beautiful slippers; they’re ruined,” her mom said as she feverishly untied the pink ribbon from her ankles and ripped the ballet slippers from her feet. “Go to your room and get cleaned up, and don’t come back down until I call you!” Lizzy knew she was in trouble when she looked back and saw her mom frantically scraping the globs of mud off her ballet slippers. This could be a good thing, she thought. Maybe she won’t make me go back.

But the following week, donned with noticeably dirty ballet slippers and a torn ribbon on the right slipper, her mother marched her back into ballet class amidst the whispers and giggles of the other tutu-clad girls. It was all so humiliating, and Lizzy couldn’t understand why her mother was forcing her to do something she hated so much and wasn’t very good at. All during class and on the way home, Lizzy pouted. When they arrived home, she ran upstairs to her room and decided it was time to come up with a plan.

When the school bus arrived the next morning, Lizzy hid behind the hedge on her front lawn and waited for the bus to pull away. She had packed her book bag last night with a pair of jeans, a pair of shorts, two shirts, two underwear, two socks, and her toothbrush. She threw in some cheese and crackers and a granola bar just in case. Her book bag was bulging and heavy, but her grandmother’s house was only ten blocks away. She would stay with her grandma, who would never make her do something she didn’t want to do. If her parents wanted her to come back home, they’d have to promise never to make her go back to ballet class. She was proud of herself for thinking up such a perfect plan.

Lizzy walked in the opposite direction from school, cutting through neighbors’ yards and staying as close as she could to the bushes and hedges. Halfway to her grandmother’s house, she made the mistake of walking through the wrong yard. She should have known better. The grass was overgrown and the bushes and hedges were not trimmed like the other homes in her neighborhood.

In the shadows just beyond the end of the house, she thought she saw something moving, but the glare from the sun shining through the purple clouds was in her face, and she was unable to see what it was. She could hear the sound of water dripping from a leaky faucet, but there was another sound. She had a bad feeling about it and decided to turn around and go a different way. When she saw the dog, it was too late.

The huge, black bulk lunged at her, but she stepped back with one foot to balance herself and quickly reacted by holding her book bag in front of her. She could smell a foul odor coming from his open mouth as his yellow teeth sunk into the canvas of her book bag. His head shook from side to side; he was growling and drooling, trying to pull the book bag away from her grasp. She quickly let go and started backing up while she watched it rip the canvas apart and devour the cheese and crackers she had packed for a snack. When she was clear of the tangled bushes, she turned and ran home as fast as her legs would carry her. She didn’t look back to see if the dog was chasing her, hoping the granola bar would keep him satisfied. 

When Lizzy flew through the kitchen door, crying and sweating, her mother was there to catch her. “Lizzy, what happened?” Lizzy could smell the scent of fried chicken mixed with Heaven Scent on her mother’s apron as she threw her arms around her. Panting and out of breath, but also nervous, Lizzy proceeded to tell her story.

“I…I missed the school bus, and…and then I started walking through this yard, and then this big dog attacked me. He was drooling and smelled really bad. He tried to bite me, but I held my bag up, and then he grabbed my bag and ate my lunch. I ran home as fast as I could.” Well, most of the story was true. Her plan hadn’t worked exactly as she had hoped, but she was confident she could make this story work even better.

“Oh my God,” her mother shrieked. “Are you hurt? Did he bite you?” She was turning Lizzy around, pulling up her sleeves, checking her arms, face, and legs to see if there were any bite marks.

“No, I got away before he could bite me, but I was so scared,” she said as the tears started streaming down her cheeks. “It got my book bag and all my ballet stuff was in there,” she said, sniffling, momentarily glancing at her mom to see her reaction. Sure, the part about the ballet stuff was a lie, but Lizzy was desperate and had to seize the opportunity. Going to her grandmother’s house was out of the question now. She had no other choice.

“Don’t worry about that,” her mom said, stroking Lizzy’s hair and wiping the tears from her cheeks. She pulled out a kitchen chair and motioned for Lizzy to sit down. “I’m just glad you’re okay. You really didn’t like that class anyway. Did you?”

“It was okay, I guess,” Lizzy said, using her sleeve to wipe away the water running from her nose. She looked away, glancing down at her shoes waiting for her mother’s response. Mrs. Nottingham patted her knee and when Lizzy looked up at her, she was smiling, but not a full smile like when she laughed and showed her teeth. “Well, I guess if you really don’t like it, it wouldn’t be worth spending money to buy all new stuff, would it?” 

“No, I guess not.” Lizzy tried not to sound too enthusiastic.

“Okay, then,” her mom said, hugging her. “We’ll get you another book bag and forget about ballet school for now. You go upstairs and get cleaned up and rest for a while. I’m going to call Animal Control and report that dog.”

Lizzy ran upstairs and immediately began shuffling through the piles of clothes and trash on her floor until she found her ballet slippers, tights, and tutu. She stuffed them in an old shopping bag and hid them under her bed. Not only had she lied, but now she was hiding the evidence. She didn’t feel so good. Her chest felt like a rubber band being pulled too tight, and she had a knot in her stomach. She climbed into bed, exhausted, and quickly fell asleep.

She dreamed about the dog. It followed her home and came into the house and attacked her mom in the kitchen; then she heard it growling as it walked up the stairs and came into her room. Lizzy was quiet and didn’t move. She heard it growl as it sniffed around her room. When it sniffed under the bed, she knew it had found the bag with her ballet stuff because she heard the sounds of paper tearing. This time, there wasn’t any food in the bag. It moved around her room, sniffing everything, and growling. Then it came over to her bed and started sniffing, getting closer and closer to her face. It was growling and then suddenly, it yanked the cover off her and she woke up screaming and crying; her shirt was soaked with sweat.

Lizzy was old enough to know when she had done something wrong and maybe her dream was trying to tell her something. She knew what she had to do. Lizzy pulled the shopping bag from under her bed and walked downstairs to the kitchen where her mom was busy preparing dinner. “Mom, I need to tell you something.”

Mrs. Nottingham turned around. “What is it, Lizzy?”

“I...I lied about my ballet stuff,” she said, handing the shopping bag to her mother.

Mrs. Nottingham looked in the bag, frowned and then set the bag on the counter. For a moment, she just stood there looking at the bag and shaking her head. Without looking at Lizzy, she asked, “And what about the dog? Did you lie about that too?”

“No, I really was attacked by a dog, but I lied about the other stuff. I was...I skipped school and was walking to grandma’s house.”

With that, her mom turned around and Lizzy could see the line between her eyebrows. “And why were you going to grandma’s house?”

Lizzy could feel her body start to shake, but she wasn’t cold. “Because grandma won’t make me go to ballet school.”

Mrs. Nottingham just stood there with her arms crossed in front of her, and Lizzy could tell by the way her mother’s mouth puckered, that she was thinking of an appropriate punishment. Lizzy figured she might as well finish telling the true story now, suffer the consequences and be done with it. “I’m really sorry, mom. I thought if I told you the dog chewed up my stuff, you wouldn’t make me go back to ballet school.”

“I see,” her mom said. “So why are you telling me all this now?”

“Because I fell asleep and had a bad dream and it scared me. I didn’t feel good. Lying made me sick.” Lizzy’s eyes started to fill with tears again, but the hurt she felt in her chest and stomach had gone.

“I see,” her mother said again, and then she paused for what seemed like an eternity. She unfolded her arms and put her hands in the pockets of her apron, and the line between her eyebrows went away. That was a good sign, but Lizzy’s heart was pounding. She was sure she would have to return to ballet school and be grounded forever.

“I’m going to have to punish you for lying and skipping school to go to your grandmother’s. I should ground you for a month with no television and no playing outside. But, since you told me you lied, I will only ground you for two weeks — no television and no playing outside. Understood?”

“Yes, ma’am,” she politely answered. But what about ballet school? Aren’t you going to say something about that?

Mrs. Nottingham took a deep breath, exhaled and thought for a moment before speaking. “As far as ballet school, I can see that you don’t like it, and I shouldn’t have forced you to do something you didn’t feel comfortable doing. So, I’m not going to make you go back. I probably should as part of your punishment, but I know now that ballet school is something I wanted, not you. If you’d rather play T-ball with the boys, I’ll have to accept that.” Then her mom smiled and said, “I guess you can’t play T-ball in a tutu can you? Just promise you’ll never lie to me again.”

“I promise,” Lizzy said.

“Good. Now go upstairs and get cleaned up for dinner. Your dad will be home soon and I’ll have to tell him what happened.”

“Thanks, mom,” she said as she hugged her. Lizzy had won, although not the way she had planned, and she wasn’t going to stand around gloating about it.

Lizzy raced upstairs and washed her face. She knew the worst part was over and that her mom would handle telling her dad, who never really liked the ballet school idea in the first place. She actually felt better telling the truth. Lying was just too difficult, and she didn’t like the way it made her feel. Besides, two weeks wasn’t that long, especially since she wouldn’t have to go back to ballet school ever again.

But what really made Lizzy feel good was that her mother finally accepted her for the tomboy she was, not what she wanted her to be, and that was the best feeling of all. 

Word count (including title): 2890