She’s Daddy’s little girl after all, even on Elmo’s turf
By Ryan Robinson
Updated Feb 19, 2007 15:52
I rank slightly above Spider-Man and Veggie Tales’ “Bob ’Mato,” but well behind second-place Elmo.
The cute and cuddly Sesame Street monster slam-dunks hot dog-cooking, time-out-giving Daddy every time.
Or so I thought.
Our little monsters, 5-year-old Wyatt and 2-year-old Olivia, were suffering from only spending 16 hours a day watching, hearing, coloring and playing with Elmo.
So my wife, Brenda, and I on a recent “Suh-Nee-Day” took them to Sesame Place in Langhorne.
Daddy’s Last Stand for attention erupted on my furry, red adversary’s home turf.
Not to be a grouch, but the letter of the day was E, for expensive; the number of the day was $41.95 plus tax per person, even barely 2-year-old persons in Elmo diapers.
But both kids nearly burst through their seat belts just entering the parking lot.
“Elmo! Gwover!” Olivia shouted, pointing her finger toward the familiar smiley faces on signs.
Inside the park, a children’s rollercoaster caught our eye. Just before boarding, however, Wyatt lost his nerve.
The operator told us to step through one of the cars to exit, rather than fight our way back through the line.
Wyatt sensed a trick and spazzed, clutching Daddy’s neck with superhero strength.
“Don’t worry, Buddy, Daddy would never make you ride if you didn’t want to,” I said, wiping away his tears.
Later, Daddy came in handy again on a three-story mountain of cargo netting. Kids climb to the top while out-of-shape parents struggle after them, thighs burning the whole way.
Despite a second net under the rope net you climb, Wyatt focused on the ground 30 feet below.
His skinny arms and legs stiffened. Swooping in to help was — not Baby Bear’s Hero Guy, not the amazing Trash Gordon, but Daddy! To the rescue again!
Take that, Super Grover.
Tapping Olivia’s love has always been a greater challenge.
Elmo has the high-pitched voice of 46-year-old Kevin Clash, the highest-paid Muppeteer ever, going for him.
Not to mention the four stuffed Elmos, Elmo toothbrush, Tickle Me Elmo, a talking Elmo, Potty Elmo, Elmo blankie, Elmo balloon, Elmo slippers, Elmo coloring books, Elmo tapes and DVDs and Elmo bowl, fork and spoon that have invaded our home.
Daddy concocts usually-edible dinners, changes diapers, bathes Olivia, pushes her on the swing and reads books (yes, often Elmo books).
But mainly, to my wonderfully “terrible 2,” I’m just the big person that says “No!” a lot while Mommy is at work.
So what chance would I have to get Olivia’s attention at Sesame Place?
Turns out it came at the moment I least expected. But I have to backtrack a little.
Grover first caught our eye.
Mommy took Olivia and Wyatt up to meet the blue guy while Daddy fumbled around with a camcorder and digital camera trying to capture the moment.
Six feet tall, Grover proved much bigger than on TV. As Mommy carried her closer to the furry stranger, Olivia’s face creased in fear and she resisted.
Same thing with Bert and Ernie.
I caught the hint. When time came to meet Elmo, Mommy got the cameras and I got Olivia.
She waved and yelled, “Elmo! Elmo!” when we were in line.
But as we moved closer and closer, Olivia pushed away from her red furry lover and hugged Daddy tighter than ever.
I smiled, and hummed: “mm-mm, mm-mm, da-da, da-da, Daddy’s World.”
——— The Voices column is written by a rotating team of New Era staffers. It appears Mondays.
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