I thoroughly enjoy having children that still completely believe in Santa Claus and the magic of Christmas. Like the wise ones before me, I’m trying to stay in the moment and enjoy it all, for I know that this time will soon pass. And when it does, a part of me will be sad.
But that part of me will be dwarfed by the part of me that will be soooo relieved to NEVER have to move the Elf on the Shelf again.
I blame my wife for bringing this instrument of evil into my life.
Let’s think about the sheer volume of work that parents go through during the Christmas season. Baking cookies, decorating a tree, decorating your house, decorating outside in nature, shopping, dealing with the enormous number of other people who are also shopping, and let’s not forget about all of the actual work needed to pay for all of that shopping, there’s often traveling involved, shopping and prepping for another large meal rivaling the recent Thanksgiving’s feast, and finally the Christmas Eve some assembly required nightmare.
Given all of this, someone thought, I know, we should add something else for parents to do, every-single-night. Not some nights, not most nights, every single night!
Most houses are cold in December. There are few feelings in this world as crappy as being in a warm bed, about to dose off, when you realize you haven’t moved the elf yet. And moving the elf will require you to leave your fortress of warmth while also trying to be creative about the elf’s presentation. Gotta make sure my elf’s presentation is good enough to put on Pinterest. Amiright?
The elf must die.
I’m not saying it’s today, or even this year, but the second my children even hint to me that Santa isn’t real, I’m chucking Frost Bite into the trash. Without remorse.
The elf is the W.O.A.T. Period.