This is my cousins' elf, Timby. Granted, this picture is cute but looks at his eyes. His eyes!

This is my cousins’ elf, Timby. Granted, this picture is cute but looks at his eyes. His eyes!

While I appreciate the pictures that everyone posts, and the creative ideas that they come up with, I’m going to stand firm on my belief that the Elf on the Shelf is creepy. First of all, growing up, I imagined a North Pole full of very short people or, well, midgets. Think Benard from The Santa Clause or all the magical, little guys in the Jaclyn Smith classic, The Night They Saved Christmas. I don’t like the idea that Santa’s elves are these creepy, small, cousins-of-Chuckie like dolls. I especially don’t like that they sneak around your house, watching your every move. What happened to the good-old-days, when Santa just watched you from his magic, Wicked-Witch-of-the-West-esque ball? Because that was a real thing. Right?

What is up with the morals they were pushing in the Claymation holiday movies of the late ‘60s? Or, lack thereof, I should say. Rudolph is 14 seconds old and Donner is already ashamed of him. C’mon now. Give him time to grow, and shame your family by flashing his goods at spring break or being caught with marijuana, like most normal kids. You’re going to give him flack because his nose glows? Guess what, Mr. and Mrs. Donner – that nose didn’t just come out of nowhere. You guys made him. Which one of you messed up?

Also, how come it’s cool for Coach Comet to encourage the other reindeer to laugh at Rudolph? If that happened today, he wouldn’t have time for games because he’d be prancing through lawsuit papers, that’s what. Santa also isn’t very welcoming, only accepting Rudolph’s “individuality” when it’s convenient for him at the end. Santa, I love you and I’m sure you have a lot on your mind. That is why I will forgive you for not IMMEDIATELY thinking “Hmm. It sort of makes sense to have a bright light guiding this sleigh, now doesn’t it?”

"Sorry, boys. If we want to stay warm, this is just what we have to do. Oh, that? That's just my ice pick."

“Sorry, boys. If we want to stay warm, this is just what we have to do. Oh, that? That’s just my ice pick.”

What are they teaching children up north? (Is Hermie a child? I’m unclear on the schematics of elf biology. I DO know that he isn’t scary elf-on-the-shelf size. Which is good.) Rudy and Hermie bump into a gypsy-esque gold-digger (who has a questionable beard) and within MINUTES, they’re both on his sleigh, riding off into the sunset (or, a creepy basement). Stranger. Danger!

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again – A Very Brady Christmas is one of the best Christmas movies of all time and I will fight you on this, so don’t even try.

We’re getting our tree this weekend, which is very exciting for me. Since The Husband and I pretty much jet-setted around the world this year, we have several new ornaments that I’m itching to put on the tree. I bet you wished that you had a recycled-tin-dolphin-wearing-a-Santa-hat-made-by-a-local-in-Roatan, Honduras but you don’t. Probably. If you do, we should start a very exclusive club. With t-shirts.

Well, folks, we are still very early in the season, so I’m sure I will be back with a couple more holiday posts, so don’t you fret my pet (whatup Urkel?!)