The “Elf on the Shelf” is a very popular holiday tradition where your family “adopts” one of Santa’s elves. Your new family Elf’s job is to sit, watch your every move, fly back to the North Pole every night and give Santa a full report. All I have to say to my Elf on the Shelf is, “Mind your own business. No one likes a tattle tale.”
Every morning when the Elf returns from the North Pole he sits in a different spot in my house. He doesn’t even always sit on the shelf. Sometimes I find him in a chair, or on top of the refrigerator, and one time hiding in my closet probably trying to scare me. It’s like there are no rules with this guy. Hey Elf, your name is “Elf on the Shelf”, not “Elf Just Sit Wherever You like.”
The Elf is always smiling sweetly like he’s your friend. Don’t trust him! He just wants you to feel like you can do anything you want and he’s got your back. He does have your back…for stabbing you in it. This is all part of some big trap to get you on the naughty list.
If I happen to “accidentally” do something my parents mistakenly think is “bad,” they warn me that the Elf is watching and when Santa finds out that’s one less present for me. This season, by my parent’s count, I’m already down 4 presents. 4!!! And Christmas is still so far away. This Elf is going to ruin my holiday!
I tried giving him a sock, like Harry Potter did to free Dobby. It didn’t work. I tried locking him inside a cabinet. Next morning he was out and watching me again. I’m pretty sure he won’t flush. I don’t know what else to do. “You could just be good,” my dad said. There’s got to be another way!
