How do you say 'Elmo' in Korean?

Last night I had a really interesting encounter. Little Bug and I ventured over to a bookstore that begins with a B to buy a book I had been anxiously waiting to be released. Within the last week, for some inexplicable reason, Little Bug has become fascinated with Elmo, so we ventured into the kid's section to see about an Elmo book. He was riding on my back in our Ergo baby carrier and chanting Elmo (ellllmaaa) over and over. It was cute.

After a couple minutes, a 30-something Korean woman approaches me, seemingly equal parts curious and distressed. She clearly was not a native English speaker, but could speak English.

Her: "Is he saying 'Omma'?"
Me: "No, he is saying 'Elmo'. He can say 'Omma', though."
Little Bug: "Ellllmaaaa, ellllmaaaa, elllllmaaaa"
Her: "Is he Korean?"
Me: "Yes. He was born in Korea."
Her: "'Omma' means mommy in Korean. He is saying 'Omma'."
Little Bug: "Elllmaaa, Elllmaa, Ommaaa." Dissolves into giggles before turning on the Little Bug charm.

At this point it is apparent to me that she can't discern between the two words Little Bug is saying (they are close to the untrained ear), and she thinks that he is calling for Omma and not being understood. She wasn't being mean; she truly seemed a little disconcerted by the whole thing. I decide to avoid trying to argue that he is saying "Elmo," even though I am proud that he is saying it, and go with her assumption that he is saying "Omma," because at this point, he is repeating Omma every time he hears her or me say it.

Me: "Yes, he calls me 'Omma' and he calls his dad 'Appa'. He can also say 'anyeong' and recognizes some other Korean words, too. We try to speak what little Korean we know to him on a regular basis."

She seemed genuinely surprised by this, but mollified in some way. She asked if he was adopted, how old he way, how big he was, etc. She touched him a lot, which normally would bother me, but I understand it is common in Korean culture, so I didn't worry about it.

Her: "He is still Korean, you know."
Me: "Yes, he will always be Korean. It is part of who he is."

She started asking a lot of personal questions like whether I worked, who he stayed with during the day, whether or not I cooked, if he saw Appa a lot, etc. I answered them all because it was clear that she was now genuinely interested in meeting an American woman who was raising a Korean son with the intent to try to preserve some of that heritage. In her broken English and my butchered Korean, we talked Korean food, Korean culture, Korean customs, etc. It was an enjoyable conversation with just a few comedic translation problems.

Her: "What is his Korean name?"
Me: "XXX YYYY."
Her:" XXX YYYY or XXX YYYYZZ?"
Me: Not able to tell the difference at all in what she is saying. "XXX YYYY."
Her:" XXX YYYY or XXX YYYYZZ?"
Me: Not still not able to tell the difference at all in what she is saying. "XXX YYYY. X-X-X Y-Y-Y-Y"
Her: "XXX YYYY."
Me: Not still not able to tell the difference at all in what she is saying. "Yes."

Finally, after about 10 minutes later, it was time for me to head out to get Little Bug home.

Her: "He's a lucky boy."
Me: "We are the lucky ones."

I'm not sure why this conversation struck me. Maybe it was because it was interesting to see what Korean people (we live in a very Korean-populated area) might be secretly wondering when they see us together. Maybe it was connecting with someone from Little Bug's birth culture and getting a chance to really talk about it again with someone. Maybe it was just a nice chat mother-to-mother. Maybe it was the seal of approval I got from this Korean woman, a seal I don't need but would love to have.

Maybe it was just the reminder as I drove my delighted son home with his new Elmo book that our family is deliciously layered and have irrevocably bound ourselves to another culture and have and will be enriched by that connection in the most unlikely of places.