Tis the season to log on to Facebook and be flooded with pictures of Elf on the Shelf. We all know what it is. None of us really want to do it but we get sucked into the supermom mentality. What started as something fun for one’s own children and family has turned into a highly competitive, who is the better, coolest, most creative mom contest. Dads rarely subject themselves to this constant need for confirmation that you are a good enough parent competition. Which is good because we would all be screwed if everyone competed. Only one parent should take part in a completely demoralizing competition at any given time. They really should come with a disclaimer “Warning: Participating in Elf on the Shelf can make you feel like a failure to your children.”
I just can’t bring myself to join in on this new holiday tradition. Maybe it is because I lack a creative gene, or maybe it’s because I really don’t give enough shits to look like a supermom. I think I could probably last three days and then completely run out of ideas and motivation to continue the Elf escapades. My poor children would wake up one day to our elf lying on the kitchen floor surrounded by a chalk outline. Beside him I would place a forensic kit. They could then spend the rest of Elf season playing Sherlock and try to solve his “murder”. My oldest loves Sherlock so she would probably really enjoy this. I have obviously spent some time thinking of my escape plan in the highly unlikely case that my kids ask for an Elf. Thankfully, I think that my oldest is slightly beyond the elf age and my youngest gets a scared look on her face every time she sees one so I assume I am safe for this year. And bless us all, but he comes back every season with a vengeance. I’m certain that moms research and compile new elf adventures over the 11 months before Christmas to make sure they are in top-notch condition to compete. It is like running a bloody marathon that you never had the chance of winning. Maybe I am Scrooge but I am good with that since I get to fall asleep at night without having to jump out of bed when I realize I forgot to move the elf once again.
World’s Okayest Mom here and fine with it.
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