"I keep hearing George Michael songs in my head, and the other day he was singing on my coffee table!"
I know the feeling. Apart from the coffee table bit, I can honestly say George has never sang on my coffee table. Not that I would mind if he wanted to. I would even go as far as to say, I would love it if he sang on my coffee table! However, I don't think my mother would be too pleased about it, seeing as it's her house and her possessions. Oh hang on a minute, what am I saying, we don't even possess a coffee table. Perhaps he could sing on the kitchen table instead?
Perhaps not. My mother is likely to go bananas if she walks into the kitchen and witnesses George singing Fast Love, with his size 10's on her checked table cloth. I can picture the scene. "Do you mind!" she would say. "You may be a superstar, but that cloth has just been washed and we have to eat our dinner on that table! How would you like it if I came to your house and stood on your table?" I would plead with my mother to let him finish the song, and suggest he takes his shoes off and sings the remainder of his lines in his socks. Forever the peace maker, that's me.
You may be scratching your head, with a puzzled look on your face, and wondering what all this coffee table talk is about.
Well, dear readers, it's about Eli Stone, my cousins and I. Have you seen Eli Stone? He's a lawyer with an inoperable brain aneurysm. He grew up listening to George songs, and at the worst possible moments he hears George's voice and he can't resist singing and dancing along. When my cousin Sarah heard about Eli Stone - he is not a real person, by the way, merely a fictional character created for our amusement - she knew that myself and my other cousin Paul would appreciate the television show, and so she's recorded the episodes for us to watch. Yep, the George addiction runs in the family.
Tuesday night was our second Eli Stone evening. Lasagna, wine and chocolate at my cousin Sarah's house. Every time we heard a GM lyric we practically jumped out of our seats, hoping to catch a glimpse of him. So far he has only sang on the coffee table but we have our third Eli night next week and we are waiting with baited breath to see him again. Apparently there is a shower scene and George talks to Eli - IN PERSON! I can barely contain myself. Of course it will be lovely to see my cousins again. It's not all about George!
They say you can't choose your family, but in this case, I would definitely choose my cousins. I love them both dearly and I have many happy memories of them from childhood to adulthood. Family picnics and barbeque's, summer fairs in my nans garden, playing with our Sindy dolls (not my male cousin, I hasten to add), and pretending their house was an underwater world (yep, we extended our imaginations to the fullest). We've holidayed together in Majorca in our teens, where the dress code in one particular bar was 'white clothes only'. It was the weirdest sight ever, I can honestly say it looked as if we'd entered a house for mad people. I've also experienced the honour of bridesmaid duties for Sarah and I'm now thoroughly enjoying watching her kiddies grow.
So you see, even if my cousins hated George with a passion, I would still choose them to be my cousins. But between you and I, I'm mighty glad they don't hate him with a passion. It kind of helps that we're on the same wavelength and it's nice to share my George dottiness with them. Not everybody understands it, but I'm happy to say my cousins definitely do.
Roll on next Thursday.
Picture of the day:
The floral arrangement.