This morning I was telling some friends the story about Audrey's first Christmas present. She was about 9 months old. At that age one is more interested in the paper and packaging surrounding the gift than the gift itself, but that's really beside the point. Read on.
With some help, she made a decent effort at opening the gift for her age. She appeared to be enthused and was smiling, but all of us in the room were waiting for the real excitement to start. Her gift was one of the most hyped toys of 2006 and we expected to be dazzled. Stores were sold out and I had paid extra for a new one on eBay.
Once you could see what it was, and with the anticipation heightening, we opened the cardboard box for Audrey, installed some batteries and turned the switch to "On." A moment of silence. Then laughter could be heard. Electronic arms twitched and a ball of red fur tumbled backward, doubled up in hysterics. TMX ("Tickle-Me-Elmo," with the "X" standing for 10th anniversary edition) was living up to its promise.
Except for one thing.
Audrey recoiled in horror. Her body shook and her eyes bulged in panic and, if I had to guess, she was probably more scared in that moment than she had ever been in her short time on earth. I suddenly wanted to stomp Elmo to furry little silicon bits when I saw what he was doing to my daughter. Instead I quickly turned him off and grabbed Audrey to console her, worried I had ruined the magic of Christmas for the rest of her child life. Poor thing had no idea what was coming, and this was literally the first gift she had ever been given.
Fortunately, I realized this year that I didn't spoil Christmas for her. She approached the opening of her gifts (and there were many) with renewed vigor. She was at ease with everything except when it was someone else's turn to open one. And she happily played with each of her gifts for at least 5 minutes before moving on to the next. Just like it should be for a 2-year-old.
What became of Elmo, you ask? He found his way to the Salvation Army. It's a sad turn of events, in a way, since he really was a hit for a few moments for some of us. An Elmo doll does remain in our house, however. He is a garden-variety doll and resides downstairs, in a box, along with a blue Cookie Monster doll who, oddly, Audrey loved when she was little but is now quite frightened of. The box sits with the top open, in her playroom, and as long as nobody takes them out she doesn't mind. She merely keeps her distance and all is fine.
It's hard to understand how a cute guy like Elmo can be so frightening. I bought a TMX for my grandmother (true story) and she finds him hilarious. Perhaps a growling abominable snowman doll would have been more suitable for Audrey. Maybe the cute and fuzzy toys aren't her thing. Maybe next Christmas we can find out.
