You know how sometimes you make a choice thinking it’s a good one and then, halfway through, you can’t remember why you ever thought it was a good idea? That happens to toddlers, too. Scarlett loves Elmo, but not in a healthy, public-television-is-good-for-my-developing-brain kinda way. No, you could more accurately call Scarlett’s relationship with the scruffy red muppet say-his-name-before-I-open-my-eyes-in-the-morning obsession. Scarlett wants all Elmo, all the time in multi-media format--she watches him On Demand thumbing through an
Elmo’s Good Manners board book while singing along with him on
Sesame Street.org as she waits for the day’s new episode to start on PBS. I’m telling you: obsessed. So, when given a choice of books to read for the night, she went, like a guided missile, for the Little Golden Book
I Think That It Is Wonderful and Other Poems From Sesame Street, thinking, naturally, that Elmo would make an appearance. Sadly, the book was published a year before her dad was even born in about 1 B.E. (Before Elmo), meaning that, even though she asked for him multiple times per (rather boring) poetry-covered page, there was no Elmo to be had. This did not sit well, and neither did she. Before I could even finish reading the one about being new on the street, Elmo’s erstwhile love was signing and saying, “done.” I’m going to count it because I had the best intentions, but she may think twice the next time she gets lured by the siren song of Sesame Street.
http://muppet.wikia.com/wiki/I_Think_That_It_Is_Wonderful_%28book%29
In How To Eat Fried Worms the main character, who has bet he will consume a worm every day for a month to get the money for a much coveted mini-bike, almost gets tricked into not making his midnight deadline because he is out on the town having fun. He remembers in time, wakes the neighborhood to witness, swallows a worm whole and barely squeaks in before the stroke of twelve. It was like that here today, but no one ate anything dug up from the yard. Scarlett’s grandma, Oba, came to take us to dinner and a dance performance in another town--both of which were very enjoyable, but left us with one sleepy baby on the return trip. I started to panic and was serious
ly contemplating either keeping her awake until we got home or pulling a “fried worm” and rousing her with the express purpose of reading her a book before putting her in bed so I could write about it. Have I lost my mind?! I am happy to report (and you are no doubt relieved to hear) that I did neither. I have chosen to review a book Oba (mostly) read to Scarlett earlier in the day while we were trying to bring her down from her televised Elmo fix. We didn’t stray very far though, since Scarlett got to hear about “please” and “thank you” and “nice to meet you” in Elmo’s Good Manners Game by Catherine Samuel. After yesterday’s disappointment, it seemed only fair.
