For the rest of you, what.the.stinkin'.HECK happened? Have the judges gone completely nut buckets?
Cry Girl, Headband Boy, and I-Can't-Decide-Whether-I'm-A-Singer-Or-A-Richard-Simmons-Wanna-Be Guy ALL made it into the Top 36.
All three of them!
And I'd just told my mom on the phone earlier in the afternoon if ANY of them made it onto the show, I would be forced to boycott this season.
Her response: "Oh, Cheech." (Said like, Oh, you're so funny. Not like Oh, you just said something shocking!) Yeah, sigh, I guess she knows me. I'll watch. I have to watch. It's an addiction, I'm sad to say. I have to see if they have another Daughtry hidden in this pack of Goobers.
They might. After all, my favorite is in the pack. That was a good thing. When they told him he was "in", I unclenched and put down the book I was going to hurl at my unsuspecting Vizio. (Emotionally invested in something ridiculous? Surely not!)
But, my goodness, peeps. Seriously? I mean, I know drama is supposedly good for ratings, and I'm sure these three are lovely people, and two of them, if you close your eyes to block out their hysterics, actually can sing...but yikes. Yiiiiiiiikes. I hope they have a warehouse-load of Kleenex and Gatorade backstage this year because, boy hidey, can you even imagine the antics and waterworks between that trio? It's gonna be UUUUUUUG-ly. And in my opinion, so not Good TV.
My prediction: Cry Girl and Headband Boy have a nervous breakdown before they ever make it onstage for the first show. As in: carted away in ambulances, breathing into paper bags, beggin' for the judges to "please, just belieeeeve in them!" And what's-his-noodle-in-the-tight-pink-shorts gets a call from Richard Simmons, asking him to be his Wing Man for his long-awaited Bringing Spandex and Headbands Back! Tour (sweeping the nation starting Fall '09). Write it down. You heard it here first.
In other news...
1.) Sophie is feeling much better this morning! (And, yes, we've apparently decided to just forgo pants this week.) Her appetite is still pretty much nil and she's still generating enough snot to bring a rhino down, but she hasn't run fever since yesterday morning and she's starting to perk up from an energy standpoint. (Uh oh.) AND, drumroll please...she slept in her bed last night without so much as a PEEP! PTL!! Now granted, Sophie has always been one of those children who appreciates, with great fondness, the element of surprise. She likes to mix it up, lull her parents into a nice comfy state of relaxation, and then bam!, hit 'em with something unexpected, like a night long Obedience Strike. So, I don't think we're ready to officially declare a successful return to the Salad-Days-Of-No-Family-Bed just yet. But, ahhhhhhhh, last night was blissful. Thanks to everyone who prayed!
2.) I've sooooooo enjoyed reading all of your comments. You guys really made my day! To everyone who took the time to write a quick note in honor of my belated celebration of National Delurking Week, thank you so much. I am now, officially, a Comment Junkie. For the past hour I've just been sitting here - glazed over, in a blog-addicted trance. I vaguely recall hearing Sophie say something a few minutes ago about toast, and juice, and climbing up into the refrigerator to get it herself...blah, blah, blah. Hurry, people! Before the little men in the white coats come to pry my computer out of my sweaty hands and haul it away (or CPS makes an appearance to rescue my child), there's still time! De-lurk! Come out, come out wherever you arrrrrre! ;)
*You'll have to excuse the threatening tone of my little "ransom letter", there. All of the buttons for delurking are a bit creepy. The most popular one is a Flasher Guy, requesting that you, please, "expose yourself". In light of that, I chose the reveal-yourself-and-nobody-gets-hurt option.