Specifically, I did not know I had an Elf on the Shelf. And trust me, if I had realized that I had an Elf on the Shelf, I would have done things a little bit differently this Christmas season. For one thing? The Elf on the Shelf would have stayed in the storage box in the garage.
Look, it started like this. A year or so ago, a friend gave me an elf dressed in red. Frankly, he is the strangest elf I have ever seen. He looks a bit scary – like he fell out of the 1960s and landed here. Naturally, I loved him. I kind of like anything retro looking and he has bendy arms. What’s not to like?
Um, well the fact that he’s a spy, for one thing.
Oh, yes, it turns out that this elf is a highly trained spy for Santa. He sits around people’s homes and then each night uses his special elf powers to fly back to Santa to give a detailed report on the naughtiness in your house every single day.
If you ask me, the Elf on the Shelf is kind of a jerk. And possibly a creep.
Anyway, I did not know the elf was a spy. I really thought I had an ordinary, albeit bendable, elf. Seriously, with the exception of the plastic hair, he wasn’t very creepy at all. And then yesterday, as I was perusing Facebook in order to avoid cleaning the bathroom, I noticed a post that read “look where our Elf on the Shelf landed today.” And I thought, “seriously? What the heck is an Elf on the Shelf?” That was followed by, “hey, that’s my elf.”
Turns out a spy was living in my house. Specifically in the downstairs bathroom. Lord knows how much that darned elf has seen. And what he’s reported to Santa. You see, that’s where the creepy part comes in. My Elf on the Shelf has never once changed his spy location. Oh, I’m sure he flies home to Santa every night, but each morning, he’s right back in that bathroom.
Now do you see what I mean about creepy? Kinda makes you wonder about the reports he’s sending back to the jolly fat guy, doesn’t it?
Of course, being the energetic, highly motivated and organized woman that I am, I have not moved the Elf on the Shelf back into storage. Really? I mean, some days I don’t even get out of my jammies until just before the carpool pick up. How would I remember to put an elf into a box?
And honestly, I’m a bit afraid. I mean, here I have this elf, who will only leave the downstairs bathroom to report back to Santa on the naughtiness in this house. What happens if I put him back in the garage? Will he get mad?
On the other hand, is it just me or is that elf a bit of a sicko? Who stays in the bathroom all day, every day?
But I am resolved that next year, I’m keeping the Elf on the Shelf in the garage. Let him figure out how to get out of the Rubbermaid container and report back to Santa. Anything is better than having a spy in the bathroom, that’s for sure.Add me to your rss reader | Become a Fan on Facebook!