The year Trombone was born, SA’s aunt sent us a singing, drumming Christmas Elmo. Wow, is it ever. Everything you’re thinking right now, it really is all of those things. Piercingly loud. Very red. Battery life like you wouldn’t believe.
When we opened the Christmas Elmo in 2006 and pressed the little candy-cane-striped button for the first time, Christmas Elmo shouted, “I WONDER WHAT SANTA WILL BRING!” and Trombone started crying so that was it for Christmas Elmo’s first Christmas at our house.
The next year, in a box of decorations, I found him and brought him downstairs. At almost a year and a half old, Trombone clapped along with Christmas Elmo and laughed with delight. I think. I don’t really remember because I was pregnant that Christmas and I don’t remember much. We had a Christmas tree. That will not be happening again.
The next year, which is to say, last year, Trombone started asking after Christmas Elmo in August. Christmas Elmo was in my bedroom closet and Trombone was upstairs with me and he got very excited but I explained that Christmas Elmo couldn’t come downstairs until Christmas because otherwise his batteries would die before Christmas and then who would bring the Christmas spirit?
Kids today. They know more about batteries dying than I ever did.
When it was finally Christmas and Christmas Elmo finally came downstairs OH MY it was exciting. Fresco at 8 months old was a little put off by Christmas Elmo’s volume but we thought that was hilarious considering how loud Fresco was so we might have encouraged Trombone to play Christmas Elmo a little more than was strictly needed, for revenge, or something.
In January, Christmas Elmo went back upstairs to cuddle with Big Ozzy, my Ozzy Osbourne-as-a-werewolf doll (action figure?) who is missing a foot and sings “Bark at the Moon” and scares the pants off Trombone, still, and we all got on with our lives.
Last week, after Idon’tknowhowmany straight days of grey November rain and its good buddy, Cabin Fever, I went upstairs to do laundry and the children were practically gnawing on the gate that keeps them downstairs and away from me and Fresco was making that keening “mama! mama!” noise and Trombone thinks babies are so awesome these days that he pretends to be one all the time so he’s going, “mama! mama!” too just before belting his brother in the head and so before it was even December, before even the first sunday of Advent, I brought down Christmas Elmo.
Actually, I tossed him from the second floor to the first like the live grenade he is.
And then, I was able to do my laundry in peace, where peace is listening to “Jingle Bells” and “Deck the Halls,” as sung by Christmas Elmo. Within five repetitions, the kids had picked up the lyrics to “Deck the Halls.” We’ll be taking Christmas Elmo door-to-door caroling with us. Maybe to the Sears Portrait Studio too. (I recommend you go back and look at that post again, it’s the one with the awesome picture at the end.)
This morning, Fresco, who is picking up words like he picks up weeks-old food from under the couch, pointed at our friend, Christmas Elmo and named him! “EhhhhhMo!” I am so proud!
You can keep your touching family traditions involving heirlooms and eggnog and Bits and Bites by the fire. I have a singing, dancing Christmas Elmo. And my earplugs. I am all set.