I wasn’t sure if we would see the Elf again this Christmas, I had heard there were staff shortages in Santa’s workshop and it might be difficult for him to get away. Sure enough, there he was on 1st December waiting for Michael to make his early morning cuppa.
The next morning, he had hitched a ride in the Tibetan singing bowl but then got a bit carried away with his mischief and ended up caught in a booby trap.
He created his own friends in the fruit bowl and found a willing participant in Poppy’s hippo to share a dram or two.
A close shave with a razor was a reminder for me to hide sharp implements. I think he was missing Santa while keeping an eye on us.
I don’t know where he found the bubble gum but this could have ended badly.
Just when we thought he was too busy at the North Pole, he was found hiding in the cereal box munching on Weet-Bix. We forgot to warn him against playing with snakes.
We were both surprised by his artistic talent with his impressive (s)elf portrait.
Seeking companionship, he spied a mouse atop a picture frame. Sadly, conversation was limited and the next night he resorted to the booze once again.
I doubt Poppy’s breakfast was as tasty as he hoped, he decided to try his hand at music instead.
The crafty little fella brought stilts in an attempt to steal one of Poppy’s Schmakos.
A quiet game of solitaire made for a pleasant change. Even elves get caught short sometimes.
He couldn’t quite get the hang of the coffee machine and the peg basket proved equally as perplexing.
It’s the thought that counts and this gesture was much appreciated.
Fortunately, a Friendship Ball doesn’t do as much damage as a wrecking ball but I think that was his inspiration. We were starting to worry about his proclivity for alcohol
when he left us on Christmas Eve after bidding farewell to his festive friends.
Last year, I shared the escapades of a friend’s ‘Elf on the Shelf’, and while searching through my meagre collection of Christmas decorations, I found a little smiling face waiting patiently to come out and play. With no children in the household, I decided to have some fun surprising Michael each morning. Elf’s initial attempt to stowaway to a business breakfast meeting was met with much mirth and, in case there was a misunderstanding that this was an isolated incident, he appeared the next day in Michael’s cereal bowl.
He became trapped when the toilet lid came down on him unexpectedly and, on a particularly cold morning, tried to warm up on the toaster.
More strife in the bathroom as he messed about with the toilet roll, so he sought solace with KitKat in the pantry.
He just couldn’t stay away from the bathroom, though, finding dental floss doesn’t make a great yo-yo, and his exploits in the office didn’t end well (kids, don’t try this at home).
The kitchen enticed him back to help with the morning cuppa, and he found the dog biscuits to be a very tasty treat.
Venturing further afield, he got stuck in the chook food dispenser before returning to the safety of the lounge to watch an early soccer game.
Exhausted by his nocturnal shenanigans, Elf found a couple of options to take it easy and recuperate.
There was another failed bid to join the business breakfast meeting by hiding in the car, so he returned to the pantry to await the next days porridge.
He put all his strength into squeezing the toothpaste tube, and enjoyed some gymnastics on the towel rail.
Hoping to go for a walk with Michael & Poppy, he waited in the gumboots for the right moment. The dining room light was easier to get into than out of.
A rather uncomfortable night in the wardrobe, and back to the kitchen to, once again, help with breakfast.
It was almost time for Elf to leave again, but not before a few tunes on the cigar-box guitar. Finally, on Christmas Eve morning, he prematurely pulled a cracker to celebrate his time with us.
I hope you all enjoyed your silly season and wish you good times and good health in 2022. Hopefully, fun will replace fear in the not too distant future, perhaps it could be made mandatory?
I first became aware of the ‘elf on the shelf’ in December 2019 when a friend at work, who has two young boys, showed me photos of the mischievous little imp and his shenanigans. I was so enamoured with the charming chap, I hoped to find him wrapped as my Secret Santa gift that year. He wasn’t. With no young children in the household, I have been able to live vicariously through said friend as she has shared the nocturnal antics of the elf with me.
A picture book written by American Carol Aebersold and her daughter Chanda Bell in 2005 sparked the phenomenon of the ‘elf on the shelf’, telling the story of a scout elf sent from the north pole who reports back to Santa each night to help him compile his naughty and nice list. When the elf returns to the household each morning he surprises the children by appearing in different places and getting into all sorts of predicaments.
The magic begins when the elf is adopted by a family and given a name but if the elf is touched, his powers will disappear. You can speak to the elf and tell him your Christmas wishes so he can let Santa know each night.
The story ends when the elf leaves on Christmas Day to stay with Santa for the rest of the year until the following Christmas season.
I know I am not alone in my appreciation of this enchanting concept but it seems there are some with a different viewpoint. In 2011, a Washington Post reviewer described it as, “just another nannycam in a nanny state obsessed with penal codes”
and a year later, a psychologist referred to it as a “dangerous parental crutch”, with much the same reasoning as what he terms the “Santa lie”. I wonder how many adults today are suffering because their parents let them believe in Santa Claus for a few years?
Professor Laura Pinto has had a lot to say on the subject, none of it from a child’s perspective. In summation, she suggests that it conditions kids to accept the surveillance state and that it communicates to children that “it’s okay for other people to spy on you, and you’re not entitled to privacy.” She argues that “if you grow up thinking it’s cool for the elves to watch me and report back to Santa, well, then it’s cool for the NSA to watch me and report back to the government”. I find that very sad in a world where the innocence of children seems to be of diminishing importance and childhood itself is increasingly fleeting.
An article in December 2019 by a Sun-Herald senior writer takes it to the extreme. She laments that, “The unintended consequence is it traps parents in an exhausting game, while teaching our kids to be comfortable with surveillance” and “have you considered how hard it might be to stop? Realistically, you are committed for the rest of the Christmas season and every year after that until all the children are old enough to know it’s not real”. So, it’s all about the parent and how difficult it is to do something that brings joy to their offspring for a few days each year of their childhood.
This came next, “If this all sounds like hard work, you’re right. Social media is full of exhausted parents racking their brains over the elf”. Is it so hard because it involves a little ingenuity and doesn’t require a mobile phone, iPad or laptop? Perhaps a little less social media and a little more interaction with your children would make for a more satisfying experience.
Here’s the kicker, “the real deal breaker for me is that the Elf on the Shelf is a creep. The idea of having a doll in your house that spies on you and rewards you with presents seems like a great way to prime our future citizens to accept ubiquitous surveillance and focus on being good little consumers”. This is not how children think, it is the flawed workings of damaged adult minds.
Christmas lost its magic for me many years ago but small things, like the elf on the shelf, stir something that I am very happy to feel again. I am looking forward to seeing the little fella in December.