I know lots and lots of people loathe the Elf on the Shelf. Partly because he looks creepy, partly because they don’t like the idea of bullshitting your kids with a stalker (or maybe an assassin) sent on Santa’s behalf to watch every little thing they do. Also partly because it does involve some effort, and some of us parents don’t have time for more effort on top of the shitty effort we’re already making.
We do Elf on the Shelf in our house. It’s one of our traditions now, since my stepmom bought it for us. We half considered getting a girl elf for Norah, but those things cost too much. “It’s only $35, is that the price you want to say is too much to ensure years of holiday fun for your kids?” Yep. Unless Sam caves with Baby Girl, Rufus is flying solo again this year.
Last year was the most successful Elf on the Shelf year, as we were able to convince Little Man 35 times that Santa was skipping his house for being naughty. No, I’m kidding — we don’t do the Elf thing that way. No lists, no reports, etc., but he does sometimes leave notes, small gifts, candy. Little Man loves it and has a blast with it, and I’m sure Baby Girl will too, since she’s getting into that stuff more now. Really though, last year was the most successful year because I moved the elf more times than I didn’t move him. That’s improvement, especially considering that he sat on a shelf where we hang up our keys for about 9 days one year. We had to convince Little Man that no, Rufus wasn’t dead, but that he just really liked that spot.
Now that all that info is out of the way, I’d like to announce that our elf, Rufus, has returned.
We have two versions of how Rufus returned– a kid friendly version and a not kid friendly version. Let me know which one you preferred.
Here’s where y’all come in. If you’ve got any funny ideas for Elf on the Shelf, I want them. We’ve got a list for adult fun and kid fun, but I’m sure y’all could come up with an interesting idea or three. Whoever submits the best thing will lots of Internet points that can be redeemed for pretty much nothing, but it’s the thought that counts.
Let the hatin’ begin.