That scream you just heard?

[This Idol Finale gush will spew forth w/ the silliness of an 8-yr-old girl. I DO tend to choose MY idols and grab on for a good while. I am, afterall, the one still clutching in my keepsake box a size 8 Shaun Cassidy t-shirt.]

Before we get to the screaming, let's start w/ the splashing. The splashing was the rapid scrubbing and rinsing of my boys in the tub this evening. "Hurry UP. American Idol. THE FINALE. Is coming on."
The crazed zipping? Reassembling backpacks and signing homework papers. "HURRY up. American Idol is coming ON."
The banging and crashing? Pots and pans going into the sink. Coming out of the sink. Going into the cabinet. "HURRY! FINALE. DAVID COOK!"
The pounding? Feet across our hard floors to get to the biggest chairs. "Hurry UP. It's coming ..."
The giggling? The Ones Tall and Short laughing at the promos for Guitar Hero starring David Archuleta. I resisted the temptation to tell 'em about Tom Cruise, Wayfarers, "Risky Business" because that would take too much TALKING!
THE TALKING?! The Ones Who are My Boys do not so much as WATCH a show as TALK at a show. "Mommy, who's that? Why are they there? What do you mean WHAM? George who? Who do you want to win? Why? What's the short girl's name I used to like? With the crooked hair? When will my chigger bites quit itching? Whennnnnn?"
And then The Tall One, TALKING from the kitchen, "How many are left? Huh? Do I still live on Planet Earth?"
The NO TALKING. The 1.something minutes The Jonas Brothers took the stage. The Ones luvvvv those Disney singers.
The eye rolling? That whole "face off" opening scene w/ both Davids in white. How did they keep from cracking up? Ryan Seacrest declaring that "hysteria" surrounding the show had reached "critical mass." Gag. Dramatic much? And, then, his intro into the gag reel with the words "best and worst talent we'd seen." "Worst talent?"
The Pretty? Brooke singing barefoot w/ the Nash guy. ( I KNOW who he is. Duh.)
The Pretty Cool? Syesha singing w/ Seal. Sorry I picked on you all season, sista.
The ROCKING! Oh, David Cook and ZZ Top and Sharp Dressed Man. Get! OUT!
The SCRATCHING? My pen. Listing all the songs I'm SO going to download w/ my Mother's Day iTunes card. IN the morning. "Summer of 69." "Hallelujah." That fantastic song from the new Old Navy commercials (The ones w/ all the angry girls wearing all those blouse-y tops and dresses.)
The GASPING? Me. All those cute, cute top six dressed in suits and skinny ties. It reeked of that band of singing guys that Simon dredged up and parades around occasionally, but, oh my goodness, even dreadlocks look cute in a suit and tie. Well, they look cute on Jason Castro, any which way! And CHIKEZIE ... so very nice a guy is he, I'll bet.
And then, the SCREAMING? The SCREAMING??? Well, first there was the announcement of YER AMERICAN IDOL ... but then there was me vaulting out of my big chair and over the ottoman in jubilation and dancing (oh, the dancing) and LANDING ON MY BAD KNEE. Then there was the screaming.
And then.
The TEARS? Yeah, OK. Me. Coulda blamed it on my knee. But, did you see?? "That's my brother," mouthed with such emotion and pride at the VERY LAST SECOND by David Cook's brother. Fade to black.
Fade to bed.
The knee is killing me.
The kids are going to be so tired in the morning.
I'm not sure they'll ever get the Dancing of the Mommy out of their minds.
I blame all of this American Idol religion on my sister-in-law. It started innocently enough. But, now I've infected my children. Some friends. So far, The Tall One has escaped the curse that is Ryan Seacrest in eyeliner and tanning creme. But there's still hope.
Next season.