True Confessions

Ok, so there are many of you who don't know the story about why this would be funny or even relevant to my life, so here's the story:

When I was little, I had a babysitter who I absolutely worshipped. She was awesome. She was funny. She was by far my favorite babysitter ever. This babysitter adored all things Phil Collins, and because I worshipped her, I also adored all things Phil Collins. I bought the Phil Collins and Genesis albums. I choreographed dance routines on the playground to Abacab. I wrote my 2nd grade book contest book on the life of Phil Collins (Good Lord, I can't believe I'm writing this on the internet for the world to see). And I would have philosophical discussions with the babysitter on why Peter Gabriel left the band, what I thought of their music through the years, which was better - Genesis or solo Phil, whether Mike & the Mechanics would ever find a place in pop culture beyond The Living Years, and any other Genesis/Phil-related topic. Eventually, not long after the popular "Another Day in Paradise" but definitely before the dorky "We Can't Dance" I grew out of my obsession, and learned to keep my past a secret from my NKOTB-loving friends.

I think it is important to note that my obsession was never a crush. I never looked at Phil Collins as a potential future husband, or as a sex symbol in any way (Good Lord, I was 8!). I did, however, know that he had a son who was not too much older than I was, and so every now and again, I imagined marrying into the Collins family by pairing up with Simon. (Thank God I dodged that bullet - his website makes him look like a bit of a whack job. But who else thinks it's funny and slightly weird that his album cover looks like a knock-off of one of Dad's from 20 years ago?)

So that's my deep, dark secret.

And the truth is that if I ever catch Phil's voice while flipping through the radio stations, I always stop and sometimes even sing along. What can I say? Old habits die hard.