When the whole phenomenon – if I am generous enough to describe this trend as such – started a few years back, I was on board.
I bought the requisite Elf kit and read the pedantic story that accompanies the Elf (the same crappy, cheap type of felt Elf my grandmother had back in the 70s. Seriously, I think that Elf technology should have progressed enough in the intervening decades to at least allow them now to have real legs and feet. I digress).
The first night, I perched the Elf on a ledge above a door in our upstairs hall. I was abruptly awakened to shrieking at 5 AM the next morning by Trixie, who was almost 3 at the time.
Trixie: “A witch! I see a witch! It’s a witch! I hate that witch!”
And that is how our Elf got his next and final perch in our trash.
But really, what was I thinking? I barely have enough time to keep my head above water, much less assemble elaborate dioramas like this:
And now there is the whole new Naughty Elf genre I keep seeing on social media. These are two of the tamer examples:
Yeah, I definitely don’t have time for this.
P.S. If you want to feel good about your own holiday card, check out this gallery of Awkward Family Christmas photos. Mustache dad in the hot tub is my fave!