September 27, 2006
There is nothing quite as humbling as seeing yourselves through the eyes of your children. Just minutes ago my three-year-old daughter decreed that I am *the best*. It all went something like this:
Three-year-old comes downstairs to tell me that her also-three-year-old cousin, who is visiting, has just gone potty and, she continued, “My told her my would get my mom to come help her because you are the BEST wiper.” So, there you have it, I am the best wiper. It is a title I never sought, but am, nonetheless, humbled to receive. Really, humbled.
It is something to have such an honor bestowed upon me merely a day after the practically-nine-year-old asks, “Mom, were you alive when the adults on Sesame Street didn’t believe in Snuffleupagus?” Because, of course, that was sooooo long ago. She was then dumbstruck when, in response to her next question, I informed her that, no, I didn’t see the episode where Maria and Louis got married because I was in high school in 1988 and wasn’t really in to Sesame Street at that point. I could see the comprehension of the situation sinking in: “My mom is sooo old that she was too old for Sesame Street waaaaaay back in 1988, just shortly after Gutenberg invented the printing press and grandma got her first color t.v.”
And yes, we do know that Maria and Louis got married in 1988, but no, we are not some odd Sesame Street version of trekkies. We just have a book called Sesame Street Unpaved which gives more background information about the show than your preschooler would want to know, but enough, apparently, to interest an almost-nine-year-old and help her put mom into some sort of historical context.
And George, if you’re out there, Tewt the Newt says hello.