That Damn Elf

SOMEONE… or something, rather… showed up in our house tonight. A few days ago I said THIS on Facebook:

Would you people please stop doing crazy Elf on the Shelf shenanigans?? My kids are now asking why we don’t have one of those Elf people! AHHHH

My evil Mother in Law promptly decided to buy us the elf.

(I totally asked her permission to call her evil, I promise! She’s not evil at all. Really.)

She actually said, I was thinking of buying you that elf and then I saw your post so I guess not? And my husband said, No that would be fun! And I looked at both of them like they were crazy insane people and said I DO NOT WANT TO MOVE THIS ELF AROUND MY HOUSE.

Luckily, the husband claimed responsibility.

I have this… sickness against this Elf. It’s really not the elf. Okay, maybe it is. But it’s really just envy, watching ridiculously crafty friends of mine make this poor little elf have these wild adventures. It’s wildly cute.

Just as long as it’s not in my house.

I have the same sickness against ridiculously crafty friends who make the cutest games/projects/gifts as I stare at their perfect projects. I have too long of a history of mangling things like that. Just call me green.

In fact, my super duper awesome co-leader in Girl Scouts who does all of our crafts for the meetings has resorted to texting me WITH PHOTOS, step-by-step instructions on how to do her crafts (because she usually can’t attend the whole meetings) so that way I’m not stuck looking at all her stuff and going WTF? (Yea, it happened.)

So this elf. Oh, this elf.

My kids have been asking about this elf because allllll of their OTHER friends have this elf visit their house. OH, and they have elf’s in their classrooms at school. These elf’s do JUST THE FUNNIEST THINGS EVER. I get a daily report.

Well, sure they do. They have creative teachers doing them, damn it. Or rather, parents for the most part.

So this wrapped package appeared at our house tonight and the kids didn’t open it before they went to bed.

And I caved. I opened it… left the wrapping paper on the table like the elf jumped out of the package and put him on our dining room table.

 

That damn elf. I guess I’ll report back on what his name ends up being.