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A Mouse about the House? Or an Elf hurting myself?

I hate The Elf on the Shelf.  I’m sure yours is lovely and your kids love it and it makes Christmas special  and the whole thing is one big ball of holiday bliss.  But, from my end, I see an ugly little troll that Hallmark wants me to pay $30 for to scare my children into behaving .  I expect my children to behave all year long and even if they don’t (which believe you me, they don’t) they will still get presents, and yours will too.  So I don’t choose to scare them with the threat of Stalker Santa or one of his many Minion-Elf-Spies keeping track of their every move.  Hence, we’ve never partaken of the Elf.

BUT, and this is a big but (and I have a big butt) I have been seeing some blogs of the naughty things that some families’ elves are doing.  A mischeivous little elf?  Now you are speaking my language.  Snowball fights, wrapping up the toilet, and causing mayhem in the kitchen.  I can play do this.  Except I still don’t want to spend the $30 to play the game that everyone else is playing.  C’mon, you didn’t expect me to suddenly be a Julie-Joiner did you?

My mind started swirling and twirling with possibilities: Zombie-Claus?  Leprachauns?  No all the wrong holidays.  Then at Marshalls the idea came to me in a cute little ‘on-the-holiday-sale-table.’  CHRISTMAS MICE!!!

Day one:  On the morning of December 1 the mice were waiting at the children’s seats at the table with a note of introduction and chocolate filled advent calendars.  It went over charmingly well.

So fun, right!

NOPE!

Girl Child came home from school hysterically crying.  The end was near for her!  ALL her friends had ELVES.  They ALL had REAL elves.  I asked her if she told her friends   about her mice, “Yes but they say my mice aren’t real!”  To which I want to say, “Yeah, well tell them their elves aren’t real, and neither is Santa!”  But, I don’t want to be as snarky in real life as I am in my head.  So I said nothing.

THEN, the Boy Child, in a whirl of wisdom, whisks our silly elf ornaments off our tree and sets them on the counter, “There, your elf on the shelf!”  Of course that went over like breathing underwater.

Because I’m a good mother I start to tell Erika that if the Elf is so real, what’s to keep it from attaking?  I mean, if it goes to tell Santa you are naughty, and there are all these rules about not touching it, who’s to say the thing couldn’t go all rogue and decide we all deserved death?   Suddenly, so prophetic am I, the Boy Child is the victim of just such an attack.  I hear screaming and look to see this:

I think Boy Child can win this…

but the Evil Elf takes him down!

It ended badly.  Just as I knew it would.

NO GOOD WILL COME FROM A CREEPY MAGIC ELF!!

BUT, should you think the story ends here, you would be wrong.  The Girl Child appealed to a higher power.  A force even greater than an insane blogging mom… she appealed to GRANDMA!

There will be another blog about this soon.  There will be war.

~~Delaney Rhea

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3 responses »

  1. She appealed to grandma. I am so sorry. You know that you are going to lose, right?

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  2. Your boy child reminds me of my oldest boy.

    I had never even heard of this whole Elf on a Shelf thingy before today. What happened to kids being well behaved because that was what was expected of them?

    (For the record, mine are terrors at home, but excellent in public. I figure that’s as good as I’m going to get, so I content myself with the thought that other people are in awe of my awesome parenting skills.)

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