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.


I swear, I won’t kill you in your sleep.


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…

Mom, really? You expect me to fall for the MALL SANTA?! Girl, please.

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