December is here and the official Elf on the Shelf season has begun. First, you needed 101 ideas of what to do with your doll, then you needed a special calendar to keep your antics straight, and now I'm hearing about Arrival Letters.
It's not enough to dig your Elf out of the couch cushions where you shoved him last year. Now he needs to arrive.
I thought a red carpet was quite the to-do for him, but once again, the candy cane bar is being raised. The red carpet is for losers who don't love Christmas. Now you need an extra special arrival breakfast where your children eat their steel cut oats out of Elf on the Shelf bowls while wearing Elf on the Shelf pjs and moistening their chapped lips with Elf on the Shelf lip balm.
|I wasn't lying. That stuff exists.|
The kids sit under red and green streamers and balloons and marvel at the magic if it all.
Well, I decided to write an arrival letter this year too.
Dear Gomer and Adolpha [if you think those are their real names, please exit the blog now],
Did you miss me? I've heard that some of my colleagues went on vacation this year. I saw Chippy down the street has his own Instagram account with pictures from his cruise this summer. Well, let me tell you, I haven't been on any fun adventures this year. I've mostly been living in the cupboard under the sink. At least it's not as bad as the year I spent under the couch. But it is really dark in that cupboard and a little smelly. Could you ask your mom if I can have a Stick Up in my stocking this year? I'll put in a good word for you with the Big Guy.
Now, let's get down to business. As you know, I'm not like Chippy or LuLu or any of your friend's elves who parachute off of ceiling fans or trash the kitchen making cookies or paint your noses while you sleep. I don't like to use the word "lazy," so let's just say I'm "lethargic." What I'm getting at here is let's not expect a lot of me. I'm not going to do anything ah-may-zing or incredible.
However, don't think you can get away with any funny business! I might not move around a lot, but I'm always watching, blah, blah, blah, so, y'know, be good. Or else.
You're not in trouble or anything, but I did get some complaints last year from The Boss. You guys weren't real clear about what you wanted and he was really confused about what to bring you. Let's go over the ground rules again:
1. No live animals. I'm looking at you, Adolpha. Stop asking for a puppy. Ain't gonna happen, kid.
2. Nothing over a hundred bucks. Until the Lego Death Star goes down in price, Gomer, it's off the list.
3. Your gift request must be delivered in legible writing to my shelf no later than December 15. No refunds, exchanges, or take backs. Santa has a lot of gifts to figure out and he can't be returning things on Christmas Eve because you changed your mind. Any requests received after December 15 may result in a coal delivery.
You have a lot of stuff. Like a lot a lot. You should get rid of some of it. Make a pile and your mom will donate it. No, Santa won't replace it. Are you crazy? He'll just finally have a place to walk that isn't covered with toys. Seriously, you haven't touched those action figures in years, Gomer, and don't even get me started about your dollhouse, Adolpha. Let's go. Clear a path, kids. You don't want Santa to break a hip do you?
All right, I think that covers everything. If you need me I'll be on my shelf. Or the mantle. Or the tree. Or the other shelf.
Let's make it a great season!
If I were a good blogger, I'd make this letter into a downloadable, printable thingy, but I'm more lethargic than my Elf!
If you liked this, you'll love MY BOOK: Spending the Holidays with People I Want to Punch in the Throat. It's the perfect antidote for the holiday blues or the perfect complement for the holiday hoorahs!
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