The Bane of My Existence (December Version)

These are the facts, and they are not in dispute:

1.  I do love Christmas.  It evokes the fondest memories of my childhood.  I can still smell the gingerbread cookies I made with my Grandmother and the fake snow my Mother would spray on our Douglas Fir. (Which I believe the EPA and the American Academy of Pediatrics outlawed in the mid-eighties…this explains a lot.)

2.  I have embraced that the Christmas season “begins”  when the clock strikes midnight on Thanksgiving.  So much, that all of my Santa, candy cane and snowmen embossed hand towels were in their holders on November 25th.

3.  The &$#(* Elf on the Shelf has got to go…

I do believe the concept of the Elf on the Shelf was created with good intentions.  Good intentions that have now made the Georgia born Mother-Daughter creator team millions and millions of dollars.  (The book and the Elf cost $29.95. I do hope that the Terry College of Business at UGA is considering giving these ladies honorary degrees and naming a dorm after them.  Garnering $30 for a children’s book and a roughly foot long piece of felt attached to a plastic elf face is impressive.)

My main beef with The Elf is that he’s brought a whole new web of lies to our home.  More lies to tell by the worst liar in the history of time. And I am about to get busted.

Our 5 year old is easy to deceive. He thinks his stuffed snakes come alive at night, grow additional Medusa-like snakelings from their bodies, dance the can-can and spew multicolored glitter.  Santa, Leprechauns, The Easter Bunny, The Tooth Fairy and now “Antonio” are fodder for his dreams.  (Our Elf, “Antonio” was a gift from Aunt RaRa).  The 7 years old Eldest is another story…I remember when he was 4 and we pulled up Santa’s route on the computer.  He looked at the computer, looked at me, blinked ferociously for 45 seconds and informed me that you couldn’t get from Australia to the USA in 3 hours.  Not even on a rocket ship.  He has also demanded explanation for the super power that allows Santa to change skin colors.

He’s not buying this whole concept of “Antonio” coming to life at night and zipping up to the North pole to chat it up with Santa, share a single malt whiskey and be back nestled in my window treatments by 6 am.  It is beyond shameful to watch me try to convince him this is all true.

My next issue with the Elf is why can’t he be stagnant?  Why can’t someone invent an Elf nest?  Forged with tinsel and blinking LED’s?  This would be geared towards the lazy and inefficient parent who forgets to move their Elf every morning. I always forget to move him. I forgot the first night. I then awake with a jolt in the morning and fly down my stairs in hopes that no one has noticed “Antonio” is still sticking out of the oven…It would be much easier if we had a nice nest on the mantle where he could live.

Which brings me to my conclusion…my overly creative Elf loving, Pinterest scoping friends (This means you, Dena, Lisa and Nicki), who meticulously plan outrageous Elf mischief and fun for their children.  Last year, Dena had her Elf taking a bath in mini marshmallows in her daughter’s bathroom sink. Lisa’s Elf uses dry erase markers and vandalizes family photos. Nicki’s Elf makes a mess in her flour jar.  Sadly, for my children, I don’t own this gene.

“Antonio” ends up in the spout of the teakettle, upside down in the dish disposal, and my new personal favorite…



4 thoughts on “The Bane of My Existence (December Version)

  1. Christina says:

    We do not have an elf and these and probably others are the reasons why.

  2. Carrie says:

    I am also a lame elf on the shelf parent. However, my 6 year old wants to believe so bad that she makes up the lies for me,” I know why the elf didn’t move. We got up too early.” Gordy is just one more dependent who I have to take care of for a month. I am over him.

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