The traditions of Christmas are fun and when you really think about it, they are based on generations of lies. Like, GENERATIONS. Christmas is a Holly Tree of lies. It really wasn’t until I had my own kids that I could honestly appreciate the excitement that goes into feeding lies to my children about a strange bearded man that, through breaking and entering, leaves presents in your house. How does said man know what you want? He watches you. While we are constantly feeding to our children the importance of staying away from strangers, we rarely bat an eye at the unemployed white bearded man at the mall who has a sweet gig for a few weeks out of the year. “Yes, child, sit on this man’s lap.” To amplify this issue, we tell our kids that because he’s watching, if you don’t do as your told, you get nothing. I feel like a hard core Christian now, who tells everyone that Jesus loves them, but if you don’t love him back, you’ll burn forever in hell. Honestly, are we going to leave our children out? Even more so when you have siblings? Coal? That is a blind threat. No leg to stand on. Despite these things I love the holidays very much, and the excitement I see on the face of my children. So lets amplify it.
We purchased Elf On The Shelf. A story of home invasion, and that awkward place where you know someone is watching you. You know what I’m talking about, ladies. At the Christmas party and there is some random dude that is looking at you way too much. The kind of look that makes you oogy, and even though you’re sweating your brains out, you wear the coat the rest of the night because a) you feel naked under this man’s gaze and b) you might have to run for your life and won’t have time to hit the coat check. Lets take that fear and impose it onto our children as part of their Christmas experience, shall we?
So this is basically what we’re telling our kids: There is an elf. He is Santa’s helper. He’s here to observe you during the day. You can talk to him, but conveniently he can’t talk to you. You can’t touch him or he will lose his magic and then just creep around the house year round with no feet or hands. He just watches you, and reports to Santa every night, and magically comes back to a new spot in the house. The kids have to find him. The title is horribly misleading, because I don’t know about you, but I have a limited supply of shelves, and certainly the kinds of shelves that are out of reach from my carnivorous 2 year old I’ve aptly named Bear. Nevertheless, here we are.
As a parent, I am not above torturing my children with such fodder. It creates memories that I can only imagine will grow to nice healthy resentment coupled with insecurities of some kind that will only be repeated to a trusted spouse in the future, or therapist. Admittedly, this thing does disturb me. We’ve already had meltdowns over it by my sweet sensitive kindergardener by saying the simple words “Jack is watching you!”, only for my sweet girl to realize she is doing wrong and it looks as though Christmas is surely lost. Despite the horror of a small humanoid creeping around my house to scare my children straight, my beloved wife and I are doing it. My daughter talks to the elf that she named Jack. Bear says hello to it frequently.
The truth is this: it’s creepy. So I decided to take some photos to amplify the creepiness. So! I present to you my:
5 creepy and slightly inappropriate images of the Elf On The Shelf!
So what happens after Christmas? I’m thinking about a Cupid, Leprechaun, Easter Bunny, and maybe Uncle Sam. All home invaders, and all meant to scare my children into believing that they’re being watched. Good lord, I kind of feel like a communist.
UPDATE: I have entered the last image into a contest to win an iPad 2 on Baby Rabies. If you feel so inclined, LIKE the hell out of my image.