We recently succumbed to the phenomenon that is The Elf on the Shelf. I personally find the elf a little creepy, but almost everyone I know is using this damned thing, so I caved to the peer pressure and laid out the $30 for a lovely little girl elf.
My kids are three and eighteen months. Obviously, Audrey’s a little too young to even grasp the concept of Santa Claus and Christmas, let alone the magic of the elf. But, Olivia, I thought, would be all over it.
I took it home, got out the book and the elf [side note: did you know you have to buy the skirt separately? SERIOUSLY. Oh HELL no. I MacGyvered one out of a Christmas dishtowel because that is how I roll.] and she thought it was cute.
We read the book, named her Heart and I explained that she watches Olivia and Audrey and reports back to Santa at night about their behavior. Did I also mention that Olivia has been throwing tantrums of epic proportions lately? Screaming, kicking, flailing, door slamming… TEENAGERY STUFF.
She looked sufficiently horrified at the thought as I kissed her goodnight so I was very excited to see how it effected her behavior over the next few days.
Spoiler alert: IT DIDN’T.
I pointed Heart out every time she started to act in an… unsavory manner and she’d roll her eyes and continue on about her fit. How I knew it was for sure a waste of my money (and dishtowel, damn it)?
[Olivia losing her teeny fool mind over something like a spoon color or air or WHATEVER]
Me: Olivia! Don’t forget! Heart is keeping track of this. She is going to have quite a bit to tell Santa tonight about you.
Olivia: Mommy. [EYE ROLL OMG WITH THE EYEROLLING] Heart? Is a toy.
I should have known she was too smart for this crap after the following photo shoot at the mall last week…