We've already established that I'm all in on this Stupid Elf™ thing, and by "all in" I mean I handle it the laziest way possible. It's an Elf on a Shelf. It should sit on a shelf. And do nothing. It's right there in the name!
For what it's worth, I tried to take things a step lazier this past weekend by delegating Stupid Elf™ duties. My stand-in Stupid Elfinator made it ten minutes before getting caught in the act. Which, YOU GUYS. You're supposed to verify the gone-ness/sleeping-ness of the children before going in for the elfination!
Ten minutes.
I mean, really.
Since delegating didn't really work out for me, I resumed Stupid Elfinator duties yesterday and promptly helped the thing find a new shelf. This time it was a shelf in the playroom. It happened to be a shelf where our Stupid Elf™ Brittany would have company. She was surrounded by dozens of her peers -- a Stupid Build-a-Bear™ and a bunch of Stupider Build-a-Whatever Friends™. It was a Stupid Party!
She was in plain site. If you were to walk in the playroom and look straight ahead, there she was.
That said, APPARENTLY she was better hidden than intended because Alexis nearly made herself late for school this morning looking for her. Then she definitely made herself late for bed while looking for the dumb thing. AND FAILING.
There was much mashing of the teeth. At some point in time, finding the Stupid Elf™ became one of Alexis' favorite things to do. Which, whatever. If it makes her happy, fine. I'll play along. The thing is that not finding the Stupid Elf™ led to the opposite of happy. Alexis was VERY frustrated.
So I gave hints. I gave good hints, even. I narrowed it down to which room of the house it was in and I stood in the room, glared at the Stupid Elf™, and described some of the things that were near her.
Alexis still didn't see it. "MOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMM, I CAN'T FIND HER." There was yelling. There were almost tears.
And then I said it.
"She's staring right at you," I muttered.
Um, you guys, that was obviously not the right thing to say. Alexis shrieked, ran out of the room, and is now refusing to look for the Stupid Elf™. She has declared herself scared to be in the playroom because she's being watched by a STUPID ELF™ and OMG.
THE WHINING.
THE UPSET-EDNESS.
When I don't get any sleep tonight, remind me that it's because I gave my 9 year-old cause to have nightmares.
