It’s t-minus six days. You know till when. Don’t play dumb with me. Even if you’re agnostic/atheist/algorithm you know till when, dammit.
This year we got the kids one of those elf on the shelf doodads that everyone and their dog is getting into. It has been a fun little pain in the ass. It all started the night after Thanksgiving when Santa dropped him off at the house while we were getting into jammies for a Christmas movie (which happened to be the Elf on the Shelf movie because I am AMAZING at coordinating these things.) The kids named him Happy Jake and despite my groggy, “stumble around the house after falling asleep on the couch to hide the idiot thing in a new spot so I can get to freaking bed” maneuvers every single night, he has been kind of fun. If you don’t know about EotS then just google it because I’m too disgusted to explain it. Fine, I will- he comes from Santa and returns to the Pole every night to report on the behavior of the munchkins who he spies on all day to give the fat guy some help in monitoring behavior.
First of all, (yes, I am digressing.) the fat guy has been able to monitor the naughty list just fine for the past umpteen hundred years without help from mini elves so I think this is crap. But, it’s for the children.
Anyway, the elf returns from the Pole and causes some sort of mischief or hides in some cutesy place for the children to find the next morning.
Second of all, it’s enough that I have to wake up early on Christmas morning when the kids are peeing their pants in excitement about toys. Now I have to hear it every morning for a whole month when my boy wakes up excited to see what shenaniganz Happy Jake got into overnight and where he will be hiding now. This was just poor, POOR planning on my part. Poor.
Where was I? Crap, if this were an Excel spreadsheet their would be circular references all up in here and my workbook would force-close with an error box reading “GET SOME RITALIN YOU CRAZY BITCH!”
Hmmm… I blame my lack of focus on lack of sleep…
So every night I’m coming up with new things. Sometimes he gets the kids a little treat. Sometimes he just hides up on a curtain rod and some nights he causes a bit of trouble before he passes out from too much hot chocolate (it’s like a good vodka tonic to the wee fellas.)
Last night was a “mischief” kind of night. Jimmie saw an idea somewhere online about putting some flour out and making “snow” angels with it. I had my doubts because I knew I’d have a little bit of a mess to clean up, but I was getting desperate for new ideas. So, I did it.
This morning, as in all Monday mornings, I did not spring out of bed before my alarm. I was sleeping hard. So hard, apparently, that I did not stir when my darling eight year old diva came in and stole my iPhone (which is what is used to wake me in the mornings) so she could play zombie games. She knows that if she does this she needs to come wake me up when the alarm goes off.
She did not,
So finally at 8:00 (an hour after I usually get up and 15 minutes before the kids have to leave for the bus) I wake up and stumble to a clock. HOLY CRAP! I hate waking up late. It ruins my whole day.
So I call the kids upstairs to get dressed and Jordan (6) is covered in flour. COVERED. I instantly knew I should avoid going into the kitchen at all costs today. I did not listen to myself. I went downstairs to discover that not only had Happy Jake made snow angels (with my help) but he also made a mountain of snow to dive into and spread across the kitchen and living room and dining room and entry way and every freaking where (with the children’s help.)
This may sound cute to you but I assure you it was not cute to me. My kids have been little assbags for a few weeks now and I know I have lost all control. They seem to think this “avoiding the naughty list” concept is a joke and their goals in life are to prove the naughty list a farce because they know we already stood in Walmart for freaking ever on Thanksgiving night and are getting the best Christmas present ever no matter what so SUCK IT parents, we win.
You guys, I am so mad I can’t even remember what I even started out trying to tell you about. All I know is, that elf is straight up evil and I told the kids I’m sending it back to Santa tonight with a note that says my kids are too naughty to have such an awesome tradition and please keep him till next Christmas when we can decide if they are nice enough to even have him them.
There were tears and wailing and gnashing of teeth and that was just me. I don’t even want to tell you how the kids reacted. I am mad because I had big plans for that elf. It was going to be a fun week. But now… I just don’t know what to do. I think I have to follow through and send him to his cardboard home for the rest of the year. If I don’t stick to my guns now they are going to be in juvie this time next year.
Sometimes when I tell you these stories they are laid out is such a beautiful expose of creative writing and I expect a pulitzer. And sometimes there is a swirling green fog around my mind as I write and none of the sentences even are sentences and I can’t remember my name. And I’m just sorry that today is the green fog kind of day.
In the words of my Christmas mentor, Clark W. Griswold III, “Hallelujah, Holy Shit.”