Let’s do this together

It was all getting very tense as we waited for the musical cast list to drop in on email on Tuesday night from the school drama department.

It didn’t help that I was tunelessly singing, “Fame! I’m gonna live for ever – I’m gonna learn how to fly!” while The Dark Lord bit her toenails.

She growled at me to shut up, and told me to send her the list as soon as it arrived – without looking at it. Which was like asking Pandora not to open the box.

The Dark Lord has been in a filthy mood since the recall auditions on Monday night when I picked her up from the school theatre.

“What’s up, kiddo?” I asked. Oh yes, even I can sense trouble when she slammed the car door so hard it practically dropped off.

She wailed, “It’s not fair. I know I’m not going to get the main part of Bugsy Malone.”

I had tried to encourage her to lower her expectations and that it was unlikely she’d be the star of the school show in Year 9 – but my words had clearly fallen on deaf ears and she’d had to learn the hard way.

She sniffed hard and admitted, “There was a Year 10 boy who was amazing – I know he’s going to get the main part.”

I thought it was quite emotionally intelligent of her to understand it’s not always your time. Except then I went and mucked it up by agreeing with her, which clearly wasn’t the tack to take.

“Well, there’s always someone brighter, faster, prettier,” I said, driving us home in the pouring rain and wishing I’d remembered to bring my glasses as I’m blind as a bat at night. “You just have to be proud of what you’ve achieved, and hope you can get better next time,” I added, thinking I was saying the right thing.

She yelled, “Make up your mind! Last week you told me I could get the part.”

I defended my mum-cheerleading. “You CAN get the part, doesn’t mean you will. I was just encouraging you.”

As I parked, she got out of the car and slammed the door again with a big, “WELL DON’T!”

Anyway, I didn’t dare speak again until the cast list finally appeared. Obviously I ignored TDL’s instructions and scanned it to find her name… then went into her bedroom – thankfully without having to wear a hard hat.

She read the list I’d just forwarded and smiled. “I’m Cagey Joe and I get my own solo song,” she said happily, and immediately messaged all her mates the good news.

I texted her godmother Ali. “Hurrah! I’m going to be a showbiz mum. Maybe even a momager like Kris Jenner and live vicariously through my daughter’s fame.”

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