I have a lot of uncertainty when it comes to Sophie — her future, her academic abilities, whether or not she brushed her teeth before bed last night. But one thing I know for sure: The stage beckons.

This is a kid with a flair for the dramatic. She will take any opportunity to perform, and if there isn’t one, she makes her own (sorry/not sorry if you were at Phoenix Public Market the other night and were “treated” to Sophie’s impromptu performance of “All About That Bass”). Even a selfie is an opportunity to act. There’s a serious side, too — she is currently writing scripts with two different adults, and her first stop at any bookstore we visit is the play section.

So it’s only natural that she wants to take drama as her elective at school. But there is no drama elective at Sophie’s school. This semester she took visual art and computers; next semester is PE and Spanish. All good, worthy choices and she’s loved what she’s taken so far. But she’s figured something out — and she won’t let it go.

Apparently the elective options at the “gifted” academy on her junior high campus are different than they are for the general population. The gifted kids can take the electives Sophie can take, but no one at Sophie’s part of the school (which is not just for kids with special needs, it includes all the “non-gifted” kids) can take the electives at the gifted school. And the gifted school offers drama.

Sophie’s been bugging me for weeks to ask if she can take drama and yesterday I finally caved and sent an email to several school administrators, asking if it’s a possibility. I told Sophie she needs to be patient until we get an answer back, but that didn’t stop her from asking every adult in the school office this morning when I dropped her off.

“If I had a magic wand, I’d do it,” one kind staffer told her, adding behind her hand, “but you know, it might open a can of worms.”

Ugh. I think I pushed too far this time, I said to a friend afterward. I get the broader implications of letting a kid from the general population into the gifted school — even for one class, even if it’s drama, even if it’s Sophie. My friend shook her head.

“You know, someone once told me I was opening a can of worms and I’ve always regretted listening to that,” she said. “Go for it. It would be good for Sophie, but there’s a bigger reason to do it.”

Tears in my eyes, I nodded. And so we will go for it, worms and all. I’ll let you know what happens.