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My own theatrical endeavours mean I am missing my daughter performing in Aladdin at her school. I have done my best not to be the kind of dad who isn't there for his kids big moments, lest I come out badly in their autobiographies. Phoebe seems less concerned about it than me. The videos I've seen confirm she's having a great time, but I am sad not to be there. She hasn't come to mine though, so screw her. That's a chapter of my autobiography sorted out.
This evening I did make sure that she got picked up from school and had her dinner in time for me to take her to her new school for a chance to do an introductory football club, then pick her up after to take her to her play. So I think I am doing my bit.
Somehow I woke up enough to do the show, which was marginally shakier than yesterday with a couple of skew-whiff sections, but some fun improvisation. I am enjoying my (most) drunk scene and have been splashing my whisky around the audience and stage. Accidentally tonight most of it went straight into Anna's face.
I actually totally forgot this had happened until she texted me about it. I think she took it in her stride. Though when at the end (spoiler alert) she goes to cut my hair, for the first time I felt a chunk of my own hair fall down my face. Usually she takes off a tiny bit and my hair is long and a mess so I've given her permission to take as much as she likes. But maybe today's scalping was in return for dowsing her.
We laughed our way to the curtain call. It's a joy working with her and we've got to the point where we know the show well enough to surprise each other with new reactions, cold tea in the face and number 1 haircuts.
This one was really good fun.
Buy the book here to discover the incredible demouement that we can't discuss in the podcast.
And tired Newsrounds are the best Newsrounds. But that's not saying much.
Today NUCLEAR WAR.
