When I heard my friends talking about Hershey, Candy and Missy, I thought they were referring to “adult entertainers.”
They told stories of Candy licking melted chocolate, playing under the sheets and writing funny messages on post-it notes. Hershey was splashing in the bathtub with Barbie, getting tied up in the lights at night and playing doctor with Dora. Missy was hanging from the chandelier, playing Twister and watching videos on the Internet. The more I heard about them, the more I wanted to meet them.
When I suggested to my girlfriends we all go out, they informed me their friends are not adult entertainers but instead are tiny little elves. Even so, based on what I had heard, they were naughty elves despite their tiny little size. And you know the saying — it’s not the size of the dog in the fight, it’s the size of the fight in the dog. So I started planning the night. Drinks, dinner and then out to the clubs. I was getting really pumped to go out and started sharing my visions of how I hoped the night would unfold. When I got to detail #3, my friend looked at me a little cock-eyed. I backed up the conversation a bit and explained we didn’t have to do dinner, we could just go out. I was flexible. Who needs to eat anyway? (Just kidding.)
I thought she’d be happy with the change, but she still looked perplexed. She gave me a look like I was crazy as a loon. She continued by saying, “Jenny, I hate to disappoint you, but Hershey is one of Santa’s elves. He watches over the boys and at night, once everyone goes to bed, he flies back to the North Pole to report to Santa about what activities, good and bad, took place throughout the day. Sometimes he creates a mess or does crazy things to make the boys laugh. He’s really funny and entertaining.” Huh? Was she serious? As I came to find out, she was dead serious. There is such a thing as an elf who flies around at night creating chaos and mischief. In fact, there are a lot of elves who do that, and they all sit on shelves.
I decided I needed an elf to sit on my shelf. He may not be able to go to the clubs with me, but at least he can keep my son in check, which may be better. If Evan is misbehaving, with a quick mention of our elf’s name, he’ll snap back into line (or so I’m told). It’ll be like having a drill sergeant in the house, except better. We won’t have to drop to the floor and give him twenty. I’ll just move him around the house and enjoy the next few weeks of peace and quiet. Does he come with a guarantee?
Since I’m late to the game and new to this Midwest wholesome fun, please share the do’s and don’ts of having an Elf on the Shelf.
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