Elmo and the Tragic Parachuting Accident

Posted: June 25, 2009 in kids, parenting

I’m not sure what the little guy did to deserve this.

I have two stories about Elmo.

Yes. Elmo.

The puppet.

The last time I had my hand in something red and fuzzy that talked funny was back in college.

On a related note:
It takes a while for your friends to forgive you for banging their girlfriend while they’ve gone back home for two weeks because they have mono.

You’ve been warned, guys.

You’re welcome.

Today…you get story #1.

Here goes:

I drive my kids to school most mornings.

I used to drive other kids to school but the restraining order put a stop to that.

Apparently, just because I make a sign called “School” and hang it in my basement doesn’t necessarily make it true.

Stupid laws.

I’ve digressed.

Driving my kids to school on this particular morning, for whatever reason, the topic of Elmo came up.

Now…I have to confess:

I do a mean Elmo impersonation.

I’m assuming this has to do with the fact that I’m about his height…

…and have had a vasectomy.

You’re a short guy?

Normal voice.

You’re a short guy who’s taken a scalpel to his sack?

Welcome to “Muppet Town”.

Population: you.

You poor falsetto-note-singing bastard.

So, a game started to be played where the kids would ask, “Where’s Elmo?”

…and I would reply in my Elmo voice with something weird like:

Son: “Where’s Elmo?”

Me (in Elmo imitation): “Elmo in the swamp!…Is this quicksand?….AAARRGGHH!”


Daughter: “Where’s Elmo?”

Me: “Elmo in the woods. Oh, look…a bear! Hi bear!…Nice bear…NICE BEAR!! Elmo running away now! AAARRGHHH!!”

* cricket

And I wonder why my kids are messed up.

So..this game goes on every morning.

Then my kids start playing it with each other…leaving me out of it.

Thank Christ.

It’s bad enough I have to feed and clothe them and shit…

…but the ‘attention’ aspect of parenting really takes time away from me thinking about porn.




What the fuck were we talking about?



So…one day…

…my son said something that damn near killed me while they were playing this in the back seat.

He’s 5 years old, mind you.

Here’s how it went:

Daughter: “Where’s Elmo?”

* pause

Son: “Elmo’s jumping out of a plane with his parachute!”

* pause

Son: “Elmo’s falling through the sky!”

* pause

Son: “Oh no! Elmo’s parachute won’t open! AAAAAAAAAHHHHH!”

Then he makes this noise:

Son: “Thump.”

* pause

And now…the kicker….

Son: “Elmo…suffering…in pain…”

* blink


Elmo. Suffering. In pain.


I totally fucking lost it laughing.



He’s my kid, alright.

He’s SO screwed.


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