Dear Elmo,

I’m not sure if you remember me.  We went to college together.  My friends and I would watch Sesame Street in the afternoons, after our classes.  I know that sounds weird, and that we weren’t the primary demographic for your show, but we thought the blast from the past was fun, and you guys always featured really cool bands.  Plus, you always seemed to enjoy our company. 

You and I were great friends before you became famous.  In 1996, I graduated and got a real job, and you hit the big time.  As soon as you became wildly successful, you changed.  We lost touch.  Another friendship fell victim to the price of fame. 

Prior to your success, you were my favorite.  You were so cute and innocent.  As soon as your face and voice became plastered everywhere, I realized you weren’t the same as the Elmo I knew and loved, and I was actually glad you’d stopped returning my calls. 

Now, 11 years later, my daughter has discovered your existence.  You are like crack to her innocent little brain.  I’d tried to spare her from your wily charms and mild annoyance until she was a bit older and could handle rejection, but I’ve failed. 

On a recent trip to the Midwest, a trusted relative gave her an outfit dedicated to your honor.  I was appalled, but thought she was too young to fall victim to the propaganda.  I was wrong.  I could see that she’d started calling every little red fuzzy creature she saw “Elmo.”  Thankfully, the outfit went in the laundry, and it hasn’t made it back to her room yet.  

The last straw was on our most recent trip to Santa Fe.  The little girl we were traveling with has a small, travel-size replica of you.  After four days of being submitted to your charms, my daughter is hooked.  Both my husband and I have been forced to recreate your likeness a million times over on a travel-sized MagnaDoodle.  To get 15 minutes of peace yesterday, I was forced to do a Google search for coloring pages, and sure enough, there is an endless supply online.  Obviously, my daughter isn’t the only one afflicted by this obsession.  It has reached such a level that I’m actually going to let her wear your outfit today.  I hope her little heart can withstand the pure joy. 

If things continue at this rate, I may be forced to put you on her Two Year Old Birthday Cake in November.  I was hoping to enjoy at least one more year free from the faces of famous creatures, but I guess that was too much to ask.  I doubt I’ll be able to keep this from the relatives much longer, because she already talks about you.  It’s just a matter of time before she mentions you to her aunts and grandmothers, and soon, countless versions of you will start arriving in the mail. 

So, I know we’ve had our differences in the past, but I was hoping we could reach an agreement.  Please be nice to my daughter.  If you, or your agent, could find the time in your busy schedules to return her calls, at least until she’s old enough to handle rejection, it would be greatly appreciated. 

Thank you for your time and consideration in this matter. 

Sincerely,

An Old Friend