The Christmas Elf

In our house, Christmas isn't the time of giving and receiving, or the time to reflect upon past holidays. It isn't about family and friends, or a religious belief. No, in our house, Christmas is about...Elvis. Elvis the Elf, to be exact.

Elvis made his first appearance last year. The Boy was so excited; I remember him jumping up and down and crying, "What is it?! What is it?!" The Girl was only a year old, so she didn't really care what it was, as long as she could play with the box.

So, the Elf on a Shelf was born out of desperation. I had an unruly 4-yr-old who was acting out because he had a sister who was not only mobile, but totally into ruining all of his "stuff." I thought Elvis could help save me from bad behavior. And he did...mostly. There was one time where Elvis and Santa were so disappointed by a certain boy's behavior towards his mother that Elvis went on a 3-day hiatus where he contemplated leaving our family for a better one. Things improved.

Fast forward to this year, and Elvis - whom we had missed ALL YEAR LONG - returned on Nov 15 or so, an entire two weeks earlier than anticipated. Why, you may ask? Well...Santa thought that the children in our house needed a behavior reminder. Things improved until about Thanksgiving.

By December, The Boy was bored looking for Elvis. "He never does anything exciting," he complained. My first thought was, Um, maybe because he's an elf who sits on a shelf? But, my filter firmly in place, I nodded sagely and suggested he have a chat with Elvis. Once The Boy went to bed that night, I began to Google, and I found some REALLY creative things for our elf to do.

The next morning, The Boy awoke to find his and his sister's socks and underwear scattered all over the Christmas tree. Now, if you're not aware, underwear is just about the funniest thing in the world to 5-yr-olds. The word, the item...doesn't matter. Underwear = hysterics. So this was a big hit.

Most nights thereafter, Elvis was tricky. He played games with his friends:

He toilet-papered The Boy's room:

He roasted marshmallows over an open fire:

He even brought supplies to make reindeer food:

 

Things were once again interesting.

Soon after these things started happening, the Elf on a Shelf movie came out. It's a cute little movie, and really gets into the hows and whys of the Elf world. Elvis - being a "scout elf" - is sent to a home to watch over children and report to Santa. There are other elves, including toy making elves, managerial elves, and mail elves (talk about bottom of the barrel, right?). But The Boy's true excitement came from a movie he saw after watching the Elf on a Shelf movie (approx. 416 times).

I let him watch The Santa Clause. The one with Tim Allen...great movie. Really fantastic, actually, and one of my favorites. I thought it'd give him a glimpse into what the North Pole looks like. My plan, simple as it was, had unintended side effects.

Prior to Christmas, The Boy wanted to be many things when he grew up, including (but not limited to) a firefighter, ice cream taster, bird, Lego minifigure, policeman, and menagerie owner.

All that's changed.

In The Santa Clause, The Boy was introduced to Secret Agent Elves. Their sole purpose for being is to rescue Santa from unsavory situations, such as jail or a dog's death-grip. These elves fly with rocket packs attached to their backs, own cool watches that beep when they synchronize them, and wear cool uniforms.

They are the elite. The best of the best. And The Boy is convinced that his dad trains them. (When questioned further, apparently The Husband - after catching bad guys all day - travels to the North Pole by "Santa Magic" and trains these elves in top-secret caves. Interesting.) 

**Side note: E.L.F.S. stands for Effective Liberating Flight Squad.**

Now, instead of wanting to be an ice cream taster or policeman, The Boy wants to be a Secret Agent Elf. He wants it so badly that he told EVERY single Santa we came across - in the mall, at the farm, at parties - that he was ready and willing to synchronize his watch and fly to the rescue should the need ever arise.

He checks his ears every day to see how much pointier they've become. But, as an unexpected bonus, instead of the tears and hysterics I suffered through last year when Elvis made his departure on Santa's sleigh to go back to the North Pole for the rest of the year, this time, the thought of becoming a Secret Agent Elf  made it a little easier to say goodbye to Elvis this year.

Because really - it's not goodbye if eventually you're going to live forever at the North Pole. (With your mom, dad, and dogs. Note the absence of a certain family member there.)

You never know; someday, YOU might wake up with pointy ears. It could happen. Anything's possible with Santa Magic.