Mom started tensing up when they started singing George Michael, because people, that's her Holy Freaking Grail since I was twelve, 'kay? Then she started leaning forward when they did the second song. And I swear, there was panting involved when the third started.
I'm currently deaf. My mother and my sister screamed so loudly the dog ran away when George Michael showed up. The phone rang abruptly at which time my mother picked it up, said "Call later, George Michael" and hung up.
Every once in a while, my family? Not sane.
The second big scream was David Cook, since Mom and both sisters were convinced that David Archuleta was going to win and were preemptively bitter (but still on a George Michael afterglow--Jesus that was disturbing), and my sister called again for as to family gloat.
IT was surreal. I can't even say I didn't do the same, despite the fact I was only passively watching (and er, watching his performances on youtube), because really. There's something about fangirls in a family; it takes you from a vague twenty to a thousand in like, five seconds.
Dog is still terrified to come out.