American Idol Fever
Yup, I've been sucked in. Avoided it for the first 4 seasons, but couldn't escape this time. Now, I panic at the thought that something might interfere with that magic hour on Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday when American Idol comes on. Last night, we had report card pickup at the middle school. Technically, we're supposed to get the kid's report card and meet each teacher to discuss how things are going, etc. But I snatched the report card from the counselor's hands, went to the cafeteria where the teachers were sitting a tables arranged in a circle, and executed the 500 m sprint easily rivaling Apollo Ohno's gold medal run. And the frenetic wave of my hand didn't seem to slow me down, either. Let's see ya manage that Apollo! I actually hate meeting teachers because I feel compelled to throw myself at their feet and beg for mercy, especially those who've had the older siblings too. Bless the poor souls. Then again, part of me wants to show up and put on the "see, I'm an intelligent, responsible, tough love parent doing the right thing. Ain't my fault. Just a quirky gene (from my husband's side.) Anyway, back to American Idol. I just love playing the part of the judge, slashing contestants to ribbons though my voice sounds like a pig in the throes of an imminent slaughter. Even in the shower. So now it's "Hmm, she's a bit pitchy," or "Wow, that was the bomb!" or "Where's the stage presence? Where's the X factor?" The other day, Lukas stalled (as usual) on doing his homework and each stab he made at it was woefully incomplete. At first, he'd hide worksheets just to get out to doing it, "I can't find it! Oh well," only I'd "find it" conveniently hidden in the kitchen trash. He'd sometimes tell me his teacher told gave him express instructions not to do the assignment, and that if he failed to comply and actually did complete it, he'd be penalized severely. Talk about a lame liar! But when he finally got 'er done, I praised him as Randy would, "Dawg, I think you did good, man. Alittle shaky at first, but you hung in and worked it out. Dawg, it was okay for me." And I think a few of the male contestants are really hot for juveniles!" Too bad one of the best singers looks like he belongs in the foothills of the Appalachians sitting in the back of a Ford pickup wearing overalls on his shirtless body, sucking on a piece of straw, lovingly holding his Remington 357 Bolt Action Rifle in one hand and a dead possum in the other. I mean seriously! What are they going to do about those teeth if he wins? Whatever mule kicked him in the mouth needs to kick the other side to put things right again. But despite his looks, his voice makes him sexy.