Hello. I will kill you while you sleep.
I should have issued a trigger warning before making you look at that. It's easily the most creepy looking thing that's ever been created. My husband looks at it longly and says, "Awwww, this reminds me of my childhood!" I look at it and wonder if I need to cleanse the house with sage to get rid of this thing's voodoo.
Creepy elf went into a box shortly after moving in with us and "got lost". We made it almost ten years without him turning up and I was certain that we'd reached the statute of limitations on his return. Until last year when he reappeared. Sonofabiscuiteatingbulldog. The kids came running out of the basement holding it up with reverence like they'd just discovered The Ark of the Covenant.
"OH MY GOSH! WE HAVE AN ELF ON THE SHELF!" they exclaimed.
We are not an elf on the shelf family. I think we are the last holdouts in America. I've got nothing against the dear old elf- I just don't want to add in another thing to do every day. Getting the kids fed 3 billion times a day is a lot of work and being responsible for one. more. thing. threatens to put me over the edge. The only elves I'm down with are Keebler.
However, everyone my kids know, has an elf. And they talk about it constantly. When the elves come out every year my kids are all, "OMG. GRACE'S ELF WAS CUDDLING IN THE DOLLHOUSE BATHTUB WITH BARBIE!!!!" and "MY FRIEND'S ELF CLIMBED ALL THE WAY UP ON THE ROOF AND PARACHUTED OFF IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT AND BROKE HIS LEG AND NOW IT'S IN A CAST!" Every one of them has an elf that visits their classroom. For the love, y'all, I'm just not that creative. Major kudos to the parents who pull off this amazing elf feat every single night.
The year they resurrected the elf from his basement tomb, they laid him out on the counter and prayed for a miracle. It sat there for days. "He's trying to get strong!" the kids declared. Whatever kids. They started to lose hope. Finally, I cleaned the counter and flung that thing across the room so I could clean under him.
My kids came home from school and freaked the freak out. "HE MOVED!!! HE WENT TO SANTA!!!! THIS IS THE BEST DAY EVER!"
Again it sat there for days. And days. With his little creepy crocheted legs sprawled precariously from his being flung and his Satanic face all askew and half buried in the carpet. Until I vacuumed. Then I flung it again. AGAIN the children were all like "IT'S MAGIC! SURELY JESUS AND SANTA HAVE SENT THIS STRANGE CREATURE TO BE PRECARIOUSLY POSED IN WEIRD POSITIONS ALL OVER OUR HOUSE! WHAT A GIFT!"
Unfortunately, I did not get so lucky. Last week we carried up all the Christmas decorations and as we were pulling things out, there was that stupid elf. The kids voted to give it a name. He is hereby known as Steve. My husband has always wanted a dog named Steve and we've always vetoed it. He finally gets a Steve in our home. Congratulations, Kamron. It's a boy and he is fugly.
Steve sat on the shelf for many days. I have flat out lied to my children and told them that he must sit there for many many days because he is a very old elf dating all the way back to the prehistoric 1970's and it takes old elves much longer to stretch and get psyched for Christmas. Elf years = dog years on crack. He's the Methuselah of elves.
Last night, darling husband took pity on his children and moved the elf. 8 whole feet. From one ledge to another. The children were amazed. It was again declared THE BEST DAY EVER. Low expectations people. Winning Christmas since 2002 with that philosophy.
Merry Freaking Christmas. Love, Steve.
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