Elf on the Shelf | Dec 18

Elf on the Shelf.

Well–Shelf on the Elf, actually. ~grin~ Those little elves that several million of you have hanging [quite literally in some cases] around your homes to help instill fear encourage better behavior from children during the merry  month of December have peaked my curiosity for a long time. Of course I don’t know what the actual numbers are–but–Pinterest abounds with ideas and photos and testimonials. The idea of an elf monitoring behavior is–well I don’t know what it is. Maybe it’s novel. Whatever it is, I’ve been thinking about it.

Ideas and questions.

The biggest question percolating of which is this: Who in the world isn’t already busy enough with holidays that they need to add the crazy, nightly, and sometimes perilous misadventures of an elf [some homes have two of them and there isn’t one tiny little part of me that would be surprised to find out that there are homes with herds of the mischievous critters abiding].

No, I do not hate shelf elves. No, I do not hate people who have shelf elves. No, I do not think they are bad or good or naughty or nice or anything. They’re elves.

But seriously with how much time those little critters require.

Long story short [because sharing my opinion can be so exhausting] we have an elf around here.

Let me introduce you to Agatha–Elven Princess of Mischief and Ridiculousness.

She’s a House Elf who was looking for some temporary seasonal employment [in the very broadest sense of the word].

One slight detail I omitted.

Agatha isn’t a tiny little thing and she definitely won’t be swinging from a chandelier.

[Though I know she’d like to.]

And we’re not dealing with your ordinary, everyday, average [if there is such a thing] elf on the shelf.

No, uh-uh.

We’re dealing with an elf that fell off of a shelf.

The shelf on the elf.

The goal was to be delightful.

That’s it.

Dee–light–ful.

Well.

Delightful with no injuries or horrifying photos.

Her antics here came frightfully close to the HP.

[Horrifying Photo–it was very nearly a clear view of a hiney shot.]

I call this set of photos, “The tree that used to be decorated but now isn’t, thank you very much, Agatha.”

And this one:

“Plank you very much for your support”

[Easily one of my favorites.]

 

“The Cone of Shame”

Because of the injuries sustained [she didn’t use a ladder] during the un-decorating of our tree–Agatha–the Elven Princess of Mischief and Ridiculousness–was compelled to watch us re-decorate.

Naturally, we sang songs jubilantly and danced which made the experience all the more difficult for her. She’s not accustomed to any kind of celebrating as far as we understand.

The files that came with her weren’t loaded with information.

~smile~

[I’m just going to tell you right now that I love that tall tree. Love, love, love it. I’m staring at it right now as I type these words. ~grin~ I decided to try a Pinterest idea and use two different sizes of lights.

Warm.

Wonderful.

Beautiful.

Boom–bam–uh–llama–love it to the sweet creek moon and back.]

Ahh sweet. preciouss Agatha.

Her next bit of mischief caused no small amount of apprehension in our little family of Handsome Dude and I.

Especially for Handsome Dude.

Agatha–Elven Princess of Mischief and Ridiculousness–is nowhere to be found right now–and for a very good reason.

Last night she sneaked into our room and gave Handsome Sleeping Dude the facial hair of his dreams.

And left a message.

The thing is Handsome Dude wasn’t awake–even a little–like she thought he was. He wasn’t just being a good sport. He was a real and true asleep guy.

~sigh~

He left the house early this morning in a rush to run some errands before we left town.

In a rush. No breakfast. Grabbing whatever clothes he could quickly find and heading out.

He dropped a package off at the Post Office.

He went to Lowe’s.

He went to the Post Office and to Lowe’s looking like this.

Because he didn’t know it was even on his face as Agatha had anticipated he would.

“Two of the sales girls wouldn’t even look at me and the guy at the register brushed me off when I asked for assistance.”

He left the store frustrated and bewildered.

It was at that point that he caught a glimpse of his visage in the rear view mirror.

Agatha is in so much trouble.

I’m not showing you what she did to my face.

And, no, it’s not permanent marker. Those have been locked up since she came.

[It’s the creamiest eyeliner pencil she could find in my makeup drawer.]

Of course we found her–but–not before Handsome Dude came home from running all of his errands, with his Handsome features all smudged up with eyeliner that wouldn’t come of by just trying to rub it off.

We’ve decided that rehabilitation and training might be the thing we are looking for.

Fingers crossed.