Let’s do this together

When we moved house last autumn, The Dark Lord made me put away her childish things.

“I’m too old for dolls and baby games… and my dressing-up box,” she declared, walking into my bedroom and dumping loads of unpacked boxes on my bed.

“Thanks! I’d just finally cleared a space from unpacking – and now I have to find room for all your old stuff,” I sighed, looking inside one of them.

“But all your old tiaras are in here,” I called after her as she walked back to her new bedroom, where she was busy sticking posters of rappers on her wall who all looked like they could do with a good scrub.

Picking up one of the headdresses, I went into her room and said, “You love dressing up and doing shows or TikTok dances. Why are you getting rid of your wigs and tiaras?”

“Oh come on, mum, they’re embarrassing,” she rolled her eyes at me and started weeding out all the colourful clothes in her wardrobe, leaving just a row of black rags. It was like a raven had moved in.

“But you wore this one for your ballet shows – you looked so pretty,” I replied, holding the gold tiara with tiny blue stones, feeling a bit teary.

“Oh God, that was SOOOO lame,” she snorted, and I sadly walked away, but rather than getting rid of them, I packed them all in storage boxes and put them in the loft. I know she’ll want to look at them one day when she comes to her senses in about 10 years.

Fast forward to yesterday when the Amazon delivery driver knocks on the door and hands me a package. It was for The Dark Lord, so I took it to her lair.

“Exciting, what is it?” I asked, thinking it was probably a makeyour-own model medieval torture instrument or a knit-your-own vampire coffin, but it was a tiara with black and grey stones.

“I thought you said you were too old for tiaras,” I gasped.

“No, mum,” she informed me. “This is an adult tiara and it’s for cosplay.”

Email me at siobhan.mcnally@mirror.co.uk or write to Community Corner, PO Box 791, Winchester SO23 3RP.