In what must now rank among the gravest misjudgments of red furry puppets with an internet connection, Elmo took to social media this week to ask how everyone was doing. The answer, unsurprisingly, was not great. Not great at all.
Amid the general malaise of a planet spinning through a third year of “unprecedented times,” Elmo’s innocently intended inquiry triggered a tidal wave of honesty, sarcasm and existential dread. Within hours, thousands responded with varying shades of emotional unraveling, ranging from ironic despair to heartfelt cries for help, all directed at a three-year-old monster who lives in a crayon-colored apartment and allegedly has never paid rent.
“Elmo is just checking in. How is everybody doing?” the Sesame Street star posted on X, formerly Twitter, presumably expecting a chorus of cheerful replies or at least a few polite emojis. What followed instead was a collective emptying of the human soul, reminiscent less of lighthearted Muppet banter and more of Greek tragedy edited by a meme account.
“Elmo I am hanging on by a thread so thin it might be dental floss,” one user replied, possibly while holding a cup of lukewarm coffee and staring blankly into the middle distance.
“Not now Elmo,” another said, tapping out the words with the weary gravitas of someone who has just discovered there are still five more workdays left in January.
Faced with the internet’s emotional baggage flying open like an overstuffed suitcase on a luggage carousel, Sesame Street’s digital caretakers attempted damage control. Threatening a follow-up puppet messenger, the official account offered, “Elmo is glad he asked! Elmo learned that it is important to ask a friend how they are doing. Elmo will check in again soon, friends!” which came across slightly more ominous than perhaps intended, especially given the subtext: Please, dear humans, don’t trauma-dump on the Muppet. He is three.
Even President Joe Biden, or at least his social media team with emotional literacy and a working knowledge of Muppet diplomacy, got involved, tweeting a thank-you to Elmo for checking on the country’s mental health, thus producing the surreal image of the leader of the free world engaging in heartfelt conversation with a character made of polyester felt and googly eyes.
In conclusion, Elmo meant well. The internet, as usual, overdelivered. The result was a peculiar blend of therapeutic group chat and collective nervous breakdown, wrapped in a bright red fluff ball of adorable unintended consequences.
Let this be a lesson to curious puppets everywhere: never ask the internet how it’s feeling unless you genuinely want to know — and have a therapist on speed dial.