Fondle, The Elf (The Comma's Important)

Isn't that creepy?

Rex here.

I've been asked to describe the events of last night, mostly because a good chunk of it was my fault.

Have you ever heard of Elf on the Shelf?  It humbly refers to itself as a Christmas tradition (since being released in 2005).  It works like this:

• You start with a creepy looking elf


• You hide him somewhere


• Read the book full of couplets that explains the rules of the game


• Have the kids give him a name


• Explain that he's always watching and always listening.  He'll report to Santa every night.  He's not allowed to speak


• Explain that Santa has forbidden anyone from touching him and that there will be terrible repercussions for doing so


• Every night the elf reports to Santa and is magically relocated to a new room and/or position

It all started out innocent enough.  We told the kids that they'd get a special book that night and hyped it up as best as we could.  We finally got to story time and I read them the rhymed rules to much enthusiasm.

So far so good.

We then told them that the elf was in the room already and had them look around.  It turns out that Santa's spy was sitting on top of the TV.  The kids just couldn't believe it.  Okay, now time to name him.

What do you want to call him boys?  "ELF!" shouts Aiden.  Sam hops right on that, "ELF!"  Edda's not too thrilled with naming an elf "Elf."  She fishes for more names.  "Findle?" Nope.  "Zirk?"  That's silly, mom.  Finally she asks me to read the list of sample names from the book.  "Mindle, Doddle, Mork, Oodle, Foddle," and then just to be a wise guy I mentioned under my breath "Fondle."  I wasn't as quiet as I thought I was (I never am) and the boys loved that one.  "FONDLE THE ELF, FONDLE THE ELF."  Edda was horrified and I was terrified of a horrified Edda, so we quickly convinced them the elf's name was Foddle, and not Fondle.  Though Edda and I will always know the truth.

That was the first thing to go wrong.

We next explained the rule that the elf would always watch and listen and that he reported to Santa every night.  The boys asked some very logical questions.  "How does he get to the north pole and back," etc.  We finally just said "It's magic, stop asking."   At this point Sam looked a little concerned.

Now Edda explained that we could never, ever touch him.  That it's a big Santa rule and that all presents and Christmas in general could be forfeit if this rule were ever broken.  And that's when the elf spontaneously fell off the TV on to his face below.  There were gasps of horror.  Oh no!  He fell, but we can't touch him!  What do we do!?  Edda tried to sell the explanation that mom could touch him just this once, but the boys were still concerned.

And then it was prayer time.  We all knelt down to pray and Sam started acting up a bit.  Edda reminded Sam that Fondle Foddle was watching and he would report to Santa.  Sam froze and the day came back to him:

• Hitting Aiden with ornaments in the morning


• Peeing on dad in church (yeah, that happened)


• Stepping on Cade


• Stealing candy


• And I'm sure there was more

Sam completely freaked out and hid from the evil elf.  It took an effort to convince him to pray.  When we got him to his room he wouldn't go to bed.  "He's going to get me."  "Who's going to get you, buddy?"  "Elf... I scared…"

At 4am, Sam had a nightmare and tried to get in bed with us.  What was the nightmare about?  The elf.

Hurray for our new tradition.

UPDATE: I forgot to mention.  Edda put me in charge of elf relocation.  My first thought of where to put him: on a stool in the boys’ room.  With Fondle Foddle staring at Sam all... night... long.  Edda's reconsidering the relocation role.

UPDATE 2:  This morning Foddle was found hanging from the ornaments on our chandelier.  Sam seemed to be all right with the arrangement, until it came time to change out of his pajamas.  He didn’t want to wear undies and insisted on a pull-up, for fear of having an accident.  Poor kid is under a lot of stress to be good these days.