The Audition

The dichotomy of being a Nana and raising your grandchild is that you spoil the child with one hand, and discipline with the other.

LO was upstairs watching Hannah Montana when I got home from work. I called her downstairs to talk about her day and ask about homework. Yes, she had some, yes, she had hoodwinked DH so that she was watching TV instead of doing said homework. Might be a good idea to do it now, I said. OK, she said.

So she is in her room doing her homework with stereo on and headphones on. (We can't quite handle the rap music.)

"NANA! NANA! Quick! They are having auditions for Hannah Montana!! Can we call, puh-leeze?"

"No, Sweetie, I can't take off work for an audition."

"May I puh-leeze call and just find out? It's our area code so I know it won't be too far to drive..."

Sigh. OK.

So, she finds the phone (running joke) and calls. The first thing, the very first thing they say is, "Do you have a parent nearby?" "Sure," she says, and hands me the phone.

I am talking with a very nice young woman, not too long out of college. She gives us an appointment for 9:30 Saturday morning in Nearby Larger City. Gives me explicit directions to get to the building. Tells me names of the directors who will interview Little One. Tells us what to wear.

"She has only been in local theater. Does she need a resume?" I ask.

"No, we are looking for undiscovered talent."

"Is there any cost involved whatsoever?"

"No, ma'am, there is not. Just bring your child, dressed appropriately, and two photographs we can keep."

It could be a total scam. The commercial was on a radio station from the same Nearby Larger City. I will not let LO out of my sight. I will check id's. It might be a fun day to remember.

More fun than cleaning up the local nature preserve, which was actually what I had planned, originally.

LO ran to call her VBF's. Squealing. Shrieking. OMG'ing.

Sigh.