Given I’m a laggard, I didn’t discover Elf on the Shelf until after Christmas last year.
The Who on the What?
From what I understand, parents hide Elfie in a different location each night. He then watches over the children the following day to assess their behavior. In other words, he spies on them. Every morning, the children search for the elf, revel in finding him, and don’t get creeped out by his espionage.
Having two teenage boys, I knew Elfie wouldn’t generate whoops and hollers, but for some inexplicable reason, I decided it would still be fun to get one.
We’ll take turns hiding him, I thought. See who comes up with the cleverest spot.
What an idiot.
As if my boys would be content with such sugar-coated nonsense.
Oh, don’t misunderstand; my sons shuffled around Mr. Elf, all right. They just added a little flair.
What you are about to see might shock sensitive, elf-loving readers. It contains vile pictures and a complete disrespect for a beloved Christmas tradition. It is intended for sarcastic-minded viewers only. Rated PP for Poor Parenting.
Visual Holiday Awful Offspring Offal:
Things started out great. Sweet little Elfie arrived shortly after I ordered him.
Fortunately, given the genderless, red-felt crotch, the box spelled out what we otherwise couldn’t deduce.
Pleased with my purchase, I proudly displayed the emaciated pixie on a decorative urn and said to my sons, “Hide him somewhere clever. I’ll be the first to find him.”
For the next few days, this is what I found:
Followed by this:
And finally this:
Oh, dear. Poor little Elfie. He didn’t stand a chance…
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