I caught a glimpse of his smug little smile before I’d even managed to make my way to the coffeepot Sunday morning.
There he was — 24 nights of pure panic dressed up in a red suit and sitting on the kitchen island with his very own book, “The Elf on the Shelf.”
To be clear, I get it. It’s a tradition. It’s been fun. But the ages of our children span from 9 to 12. At this point we know for sure that two of them have graduated into non-believers. Our youngest, who hasn’t muttered a word about disbelief, was responsible for locating the Elf and setting him out to frighten me out of my morning fog.
There he was, proof that our kid still believes in magic.
Quick background on our creepy, little friend — two women from Georgia wrote this book about the Elf on the Shelf, how he essentially serves as Santa’s spy on the kids during the holidays and then reports back to big guy.
In the process the elf moves to a new location each night, I repeat each night, and sometimes finds “mischief” along the way. I wildly praise the authors for the one rule, which requires that the kids can’t touch him. The book was paired with a small elf doll, and the rest is trendy Christmas history.
So when I saw him sitting there, I couldn’t help but quickly pronounce his death at my son’s hands. How unfortunate. Maybe he could be revived at a younger child’s home, I suggested.
“I only touched the book,” he said, with serious eyes locked on me. “I didn’t touch him.”
Fine.
It’s not so much about ensuring you have this permanent houseguest during the sometimes stressful holiday season. It’s the pressure to perform. Somehow the Elf is not about the shelf — at all. He’s about the most clever, hilarious ideas you can think of and subsequently post to your Pintrest, Instagram and Facebook accounts.
And for that I thank you.
It’s been about three years since we came up with an original idea for our elf. Honestly, I am perfectly fine with the Internet doing the thinking for me when it’s 11:45 p.m. and I jolt out of bed to remember, once again, our little friend is in the same spot as the previous night.
If you do burn the midnight oil to ensure your elf is lying on a perfectly solid marshmallow raft and floating in a sink with an umbrella drink, be sure he’s in the main bath. The last thing you want is the daily scavenger hunt to turn into a tardy at school. Because if there is one more thing you want to cram into your morning routine I think we would all agree it’s wandering around the house looking for a doll.
I don’t mean to sound completely cynical. I’m only suggesting that before you add this little time suck to be a part of your holiday tradition, you consider the expiration date.
For now, we’ll face the holiday music, bookmark the best ideas and try to remember the good stuff — the kids gathered around as we read the book as a family, the hilarity that often ensues when you’re scrambling around the house with your husband and an elf doll, the delight in their eyes when they discover him each morning and the pure magic of childhood at Christmas.
Contact Abigail Pelzer at
641-792-3121 ext. 6530
or apelzer@newtondailynews.com