If you have kids or have seen any kids in the past couple of years, you’ve probably heard of the new-ish Christmas tradition, Elf on the Shelf. I will give the basic gist of it for those of you who never leave your house. Elf on the Shelf is a little Elf (obviously) who has magic and flies to the North Pole every night to report on kids.
Sometimes he moves around the house during the night, sometimes he’s mischievous and gets into things, sometimes he brings little gifts, sometimes he leaves notes, etc. Apparently his personality is as different as the parent’s energy level and creativeness.
During my conversations with Santa Claus, I have specifically requested that an Elf on the Shelf not come to my house. If my Elf on the Shelf turned out to be anything like me, he would barely remember to wear pants most days, let alone do his job. Also, I think he’s kind of creepy. And by “kind of” I mean extremely.
My grandpa recently brought over a box of my grandma’s old Christmas things. In one of the boxes was an old elfie-thingie that vaguely resembled the current Elf on the Shelf guy. Honestly, it looked more like a cheap (VERY cheap) knock off, but that didn’t stop my oldest from just “knowing” that I had changed my mind about getting an Elf on the Shelf. “You can play with him, but I asked Santa not to bring him to life.” I hadn’t changed my mind at all, but my grandma is somehow still finding ways to give my children whatever they want despite having passed away.
In all her excitement, my oldest put the elfie-thingie on our non-used fireplace. I asked my husband to build a fire immediately. Ha ha, just kidding! But I did tell my daughter that the elf would not come to life at our house. My daughter, being very persistent, informed me that she was going to set him there just to see if he moved. “OK fine, but he doesn’t have magic so he won’t move.” I told her.
Ten minutes later, Savannah went to her room to play and her little brother started playing with the elf. I hoped he would eat it. Ha ha, just kidding again! He lost interest, set the elf down on the recliner and went about his daily goal of getting into everything he isn’t supposed to … specifically the garbage and dog food.
At some point, Savannah came back out and instantly noticed that the elf was in a different spot. “I knew it! I knew you would change your mind! He is magical now. Thank you, thank you, thank you!”
Usually I do what I can to maximize the amount of times that I hear, “You’re the meanest mom ever!” This time though, I couldn’t. She was too excited. So I called Santa and asked him to send the necessary magic to bring “Tom” to life.
And that’s how Elf on the Shelf came to be at our house. Big thanks to my grandma and my son.
For questions, comments or to borrow our elfie-thingie for two weeks, please e-mail me at christyrasmussen@yahoo.com.
