Dad is funny. Before I was born, he swore up and down that he'd keep his kids away from Elmo, and then after I fell for the red furry guy in Turks and Caicos, he went out and got me pajamas with Elmo (and Abby Cadabby) on them. I was overjoyed...and very puzzled. How did Elmo get there? But I soon got back to business: rifling through Mom and Dad's stuff. And Dad kept asking me the same question—are you deaf and blind? I already told you, Elmo's right here!—so I took off to look for someone more interesting to talk with.
As a funny postscript to this, the following night I wore Elmo-free PJs and kept searching for him on my shirt. Where'd he go?
