“Ray,” I called from the kitchen this morning, as he hustled to get ready for the day, “will you please explain to Sophie why she can’t have an Elmo-themed birthday party?”

“Sophie, it’s way too early to plan your birthday,” her father replied.

“But Daddy, it’s only three months away!”

Months ago (like, the day after her 8th birthday party) I gave up that fight. Sophie loves talking about her birthday, and really, for me, that’s a victimless crime. Don’t tell anyone, but I’ve been planning her 9th birthday party — which will take place at the end of May — for a while now myself. I even have a Pinterest board devoted to “Sophie’s Purple Pajama Party.” Weeks ago, she agreed to a purple-themed party. Cute, creative, appropriate for all ages. Most, anyway. Phew. Time to look for purple cocktail ideas.

But today Sophie wants an Elmo party.

“I loooooooooooove Elmo!” she said, (literally) stamping her foot and holding up the iPad to show off a beach-themed Elmo cake. This Elmo was on a surfboard, wishing someone named “Katie” a happy birthday.

I bet that Katie was turning 2, tops. But you can’t tell Sophie that. We’ve been having this battle (again, literally) for years. And I’ve grappled with it even longer. I remember throwing Sophie’s Elmo-themed third birthday party and feeling sorry for myself as I perused the offerings on amazon.com and noted that most Elmo birthdays are planned for 1-year-olds.

Don’t get me wrong. We’re all about immature television choices in our family. As I love to remind her, my sister watched Sesame Street til she was 11. Annabelle (almost 11 herself) only recently stopped watching Oswald the octopus on Nick Jr. I fell asleep on the couch last night watching the Disney Channel’s “Shake It Up” — and don’t get me started on some of Ray’s television favorites.

But Annabelle’s not asking for a Backyardigans birthday party. I’m not looking to shake it up for my 46th. Sophie loves Elmo and she has no concept of why her friends might not.

“I’m going to go to school today and tell Sarah I’m having an Elmo birthday party!” she said.

“Oh no, please don’t do that,” I begged. Just the other day I wrote about how well Sophie’s school sticker chart was working, and a couple days later I bragged that she gets along well with her peers. Two days later (of course) the sticker chart came home sticker-less, reporting that Sophie had hit friends at lunch. (!!!!) Yesterday she missed a sticker during math; turns out she locked herself in the bathroom, refusing to come out. None of this is easy and as I’ve written many times, I’m wont to focus on something silly — like the request for an Elmo birthday party — rather than the bigger, impossible-to-solve with retail therapy problem.

I adore my Girl in a Party Hat. I just need to convince her to ditch Elmo. I think I can do it. I’ve got three months, after all.