What Have I Gotten Myself Into?

That title phrase can be applied to many things in my life.  I can think of about a dozen right off the top of my head.  It was the initial thought I had on Friday after I o-fficially told the world about this blog.  Actually, it was more like, “What the hell have I done and how am I going to keep this up?”  But, here we are.  It’s Monday and I’m writing.  Today’s theme is holiday related.  I’m gonna be talking about this A LOT over the next couple of weeks.  However, the ‘What have I gotten myself into’ moment for today is Elf on the Shelf.

Yes, I know a large portion of my readers love this tradition. I can already hear the responses I’m gonna get for this.  Let me save you the trouble.  It’s a beloved tradition that promotes being good and encourages imagination and whimsy.  Yeah, Yeah, Yeah.  Bullshit. See this cute little meme?  Belt on a Shelf.

That’s what I have to say about encoIMG_0499.jpguraging good behavior.  That and the whole you’ll get exactly nada, zippo if you’re bad because Santa doesn’t bring presents to bad kids.  Isn’t Santa enough to encourage imagination and whimsy?  Isn’t Rudolph and Frosty enough? We already have plenty of fun and imagination building beings for this holiday.  As for traditions, I’m all for them.  Like many families in Texas, we have tamales on Christmas eve.  We make a point of reading the Christmas story out of the Bible and The Cajun Night Before Christmas every Christmas Eve before bed.  We have Monkey Bread and Mimosas every Christmas morning.  We light our Advent wreath every Sunday in Advent.  We have a countdown felt tree the kids decorate each day.  If we want to add a new tradition we can but there is no need to do so as we have plenty of traditions that didn’t include buying a creepy AF doll for the low, low price of 19.99.

Having said all that… After literally YEARS of my daughter begging me, writing letters to Santa and asking anyone else who would listen for one of these damn elves, I caved.  She wore me down.  She broke me.  I bought the damn elf.  My daughter named her Snowflake. I had to rIMG_0511.jpgesort to Pintrest to help me find non-messy/low energy ways to have that freakin’ elf interact with our family.  Now fast forward a few years to yesterday, the first Sunday in Advent when the Christmas season officially begins.  Guess who made an appearance?  Yep, Snowflake.  She always shows up on the first Sunday in Advent – it’s a tradition.  Even though my daughter is no long a believer, she informed me that Snowflake still needs to come out so out she came.  My daughter now thinks it’s everyone’s responsibility for moving her. I have politely declined but she did rope me into firing up a sewing machine to teach her how to make clothes for Snowflake.  I needed a Xanax and a quiet room after that little ordeal but we managed to come up with the evening gown she is wearing on her date with our toy soldier.  Is she humping his leg? Dirty elf.

I know in the years to come Snowflake’s draw will fade.  One year Snowflake will be carefully packed away not to be taken out again until my daughter moves out and has a family of her own.  When that day comes I will shed many tears but I can safely say I won’t shed one drop for that elf.  What did I get myself into indeed.




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