About a year ago, Oui Oui gave Stella some Elmo DVDs that she had picked up second-hand for cheap. We had given Sesame Street a go several times. Stella loved Grover; he was the object of her first character-child love affair along with Molly from the Bubble Guppies. But she would not sit down and watch Sesame Street for long. Indeed, it’s not the Sesame Street I remember as a kid. Bert and Ernie are mostly animated now, for crying out loud. And the Flying Fairy School was met with wee contempt by my daughter. So the Elmo DVDs were placed in the cabinet of the entertainment center just in case.
Just in case has arrived. I wish it had not.
We have spent the weekend locked indoors, as Stella is experiencing one of those random fever virus (?) things that kids get – just a fever but no other symptoms. I’ve lessened my reluctance to take my kids out with runny noses, but I’m still not going to be “that mom” who takes their kid out with a temperature. Elmo and chocolate milk have been the only thing she will accept. No other food or drink – not even popsicles – or entertainment will do. And since she’s sick, there’s nothing to do but endure it.
I’m going on the record now. I F’ing hate Elmo. He’s the red muppet. Red like Kool Aid. He has the high-pitched squeaky voice, which I suppose is universally-enjoyed by children everywhere. Elmo lives in a poorly-drawn crayon house. He has a poorly-drawn computer that SCREAMS “You have mail! You have mail!” And the computer’s screaming precipitates my kid’s screaming which in turn makes her father scream at her for screaming if he happens to be present.
The only thing Elmo has that’s real is a goldfish named Dorothy. Stella’s in love with that fish. I think we may give her a small aquarium set and goldfish for her birthday coming up. Yes, I do realize I’m sort of volunteering myself to keep something else alive.
Then there’s Mr. Noodle, this odd creepy incompetent man that is supposed to help demonstrate whatever lesson or point that Elmo is discussing during the episode. Think reject Charlie Chaplin. On one of our DVDs, Mr. Noodle is trying to figure out how to put on a coat. By the time he does successfully get it on, his pants fall down. That’s kind of gross. I think Mr. Noodle should be institutionalized as mentally-deficient with a warning on his door that he may be a pedophile.
Suffice it to say, this weekend has been dreadful. Next weekend we might blow the budget and take the kids to the aquarium just to get out and do something different.
Yeah, Elmo. I’ll see your Dorothy and raise you a hammerhead shark.
That’s what I’d like to see. Some Elmo chum.