Today was a good day.

This afternoon, I took my daughter to a shitty little toddler and infant show at a local convention/campsite/waterpark place in town here. I figured there would be crafts and games and shit to keep the kid entertained, so after lunch and a nap (mine, sadly; I'm not as young as I used to be) we packed up the ol' sippy cups of juice and fecal collectors (diapers), threw 'em into the travel bag and hit the semi-open road to the show.

It took me about thirty minutes to find a place that should have taken me ten (I will never ask for directions...NEVER!) and we pulled in to a somewhat busy little parking lot of mostly mini vans and sedans to go see the show. Grabbing all the essential items---stroller, bag, hat, coat, nicotine patch---we made our way to the big double doors of the hall.

Now, its my understanding that the word "show" is usually used to describe something entertaining or interesting. Apparently, the new Canadian definition of show means to hock shitty kiddie toys and apparel to brain-dead parents who could probably get the same shit cheaper at a better, cleaner place. And they charged me five bucks to get in!! Nowhere in the advertisement did I see a price attached to this event. Five bucks ain't much, but it's a whole fuckin' lot when you realize the crappy reality to the event.

Having already forked over my fiver, I figured we'd walk about and see what was what. They had booth after booth of local businesses set-up to advertise what they did or what they sold. Not much of interest to me....or the other duped parents, judging from the sour look on a lot of the adult faces.

There were a few "displays" of toys set up for kids to see and play with. I figured this was an excellent idea on the promoter's behalf. Excellent until you have to remove your kid from the play area, that is.

I plopped the girl down at some blocks and giant wedges display to enjoy the stuff there. After about twenty minutes of playing with the over-sized wooden blocks and climbing on the oddly painted wedges I figured it was time to move on and see what else there was. I walked over, got the girl, and took her back to the stroller.

Anarchy insues.

The girl---MY small, sweet, well-adjusted gal---the proceeds to throw the biggest tantrum hissy you've ever seen. Backs were arched; heads were thrown back and front; tears were shed; fists were thrown; more tears shed. And the screaming....oh the screaming!....you could actually hear it echo off the walls. (The girl has a set of pipes on 'er.) Being a roomm full of other parents, everyone either ignored it or gave me the "atta boy, you'll pull through" look that's half smile half sympathy. Assholes.

Anyway, to the point of the blog, though. Nobody told me at the entrance, nor did I see it on the flyer, that there was a special guest appearing (apparently every 45 minutes) to the little convention: mother-fuckin' Elmo from Sesame Street!!

Sure, it was some chick in a giant red suit, but to the kids it was as real as could be. Elmo walks out from a little door just behind me and stops right infront of me and the kid. Elmo then does a little douche-y head shake thing, sticks out his hand and pats my daughter's shoulder. (No, I didn't break this one's hand; I know some of you were thinking it.) The tears stop instantly and are replaced by the biggest smile you've ever seen, followed by the garbled words "Mmmm-O" and some frantic excitment shaking.

Elmo saved my ass today.

We then got in the short little line to have her a little meet-and-greet with the muppet-thing. When she got up she was a little shy, but quickly replaced that with hugs and pulls at the red fur and babbles at the face region of the suit. We had a picture taken (TEN FUCKING DOLLARS!!) and afterward I thanked the poor person in the suit for the save. Elmo nods, does a little hand wave "forget about it, dude" thing and off we go.

I've gotta admit, it was pretty cool to meet Elmo, even if it was just some poor university student doing it for nine dollars an hour. It made me remember back to when I was a kid watching those shows and how magical the world and those characters seemed at the time. It makes me glad that my daughter can also experience that wonderful world of make-believe and magical creatures.

Today was a good day.

....but five dollars? C'mmon!

Thanks for reading,

-The Big Bad