Should We Shelve the Elves?
In 2005, Santa Claus was taking a nap while somewhere south of the North Pole, a mother and daughter self-published a book called, “The Elf on the Shelf Tradition.” Those who bought the book received a petite, handmade “scout” elf. The adopted elves moved from shelf to shelf each day from December 1-25, watching over the children to ensure they behaved while Santa and the factory elves were packing up for Christmas Eve delivery.
Once the elves arrived, they were everywhere. One explanation for the sudden onslaught of the elfin shysters is that they were slough house elves sent to manage the job Santa no longer wanted. No matter how naughty they are, spying and reporting on kids is an ugly job because the stakes are high, but somebody has to do it. But for those who are wondering why Santa, after years of magically knowing the millions of naughty and nice children across the globe, outsourced to those sinewy, side-eyed scouts, you are not alone. As the indiscreet shelf elves multiply, so do the number of children who may be prematurely losing faith.
I feel sorry for the parents of young children today. As if fielding sanctimonious questions about why mommy is kissing Santa Claus, whether or not the fake-bearded mall Santa is on Ozempic, or “you're sure there's just one sleigh?” from the second-grader who can multiply and divide four different ways is not enough; now, after balancing work with clandestine online shopping, schlepping the kids to basketball, ballet, church, and holiday concerts, parents have to remember to move the scout elf AND make it clever.
True, there is a support industry with resources like the signature couture collection with fashion and accessory statements that are certain to surprise. There are blogs like 100 Funny Elf on the Shelf Ideas to Make Your Whole Family Smile. Still, most creative concepts involve advanced supplies like miniature pompoms, fishing line, twinkle lights, and a glue gun, so finding the time for procurement and the energy after the kids are finally asleep to get their Pinterest on is more than most parents can muster. For most parents, managing Santa’s magic is challenging enough, and the elves are the tipping point.
Thank you to Kate for picture sharing ;-)
Most parents will elfin fail at least once in any given December. They might come home from the office party a little tipsy and more interested in some snooki than Sally the elf. Or they may follow the rules precisely, and still their eight-year-old notices Chappy the elf has a Made in China tag, then remembers the recess Santa debate and reconsiders that faithless Johnny might be right. The China tag is physical evidence that Santa is not real. She tells her five-year-old brother. Her pronouncement leads to frantic parental texting: Should we remove the tag? No, we can’t remove the tag. I’ll write a letter from Santa, and few days later, the parents catch the eight-year-old going full-on CIA on daddy's phone, scrolling through the texts, reading them aloud, shaming her parents for making her send an apology letter to a Santa who categorically does not exist. They beg her to come on board and save the magic for her brother; she agrees, and the dreaded reveal is over. The parents are licking their wounds, and the eight-year-old walks away with the win. After all, she has freed herself from Santa, his surveillance elves, and transactional Christmas altogether. If you behave and you believe, then you shall receive no longer applies.
Our kids are grown now, and I am so grateful for dodging the elf on a shelf. At every holiday party I have attended this year, I hear stories of parents messing up the elf and, by extension, Santa. They detail eating the marshmallows or forgetting their wine glasses, and with each account, I experience my own PTSD with a flashback to the bathroom when I sacrificed our daughter to save our son. Her obsession with Mrs. Claus and whether she was a 50-50 partner with equal pay ultimately led to a frank reveal. I will never forget the surprise in her pretty blue eyes. She still believed. Ignoring the rock in my gut, I told her with contrived glee that she was in on it now, a card-carrying member of the Keeping the Magic Alive Club, and that came with a unique tradition of its own. Later, after consulting with the wise Mrs. Gingerbread, aka Marijo Foster most days of the year, I decided on an annual mother-daughter tea to celebrate Eliza’s rite of passage. We still do it today.
If currently you are feeling elf abused and afraid of the dreaded reveal, there is good news. A recent study shows that “contrary to what you might expect, about half the children and about 20 percent of adults reported feeling good about discovering the truth about Santa. Some said they were relieved that they finally resolved some of their nagging questions.” Some said they felt pride that they had figured it out alone.
So don’t fear the elves or your lack of elfin skills. If you have begun and are regretting it, don’t pretend Skippy has a broken leg or COVID. Scout elves don’t have bones, nor do they get sick. Don’t try to manipulate your children into touching the elves so they lose their magic and can’t move anymore. Paying the babysitter extra to generate an epic scene is allowed. But the best way forward is to do your best with the time and resources you have, and try to have some fun. Meanwhile embrace the inevitability of imperfection and the moment of reveal, because both will happen, with or without Skippy. You may kick yourself, but you are not alone if you have willingly succumbed to this mass-market tradition. In 2020, over 14.5 million shelf elves were adopted, with a reported 2021 revenue for the company of over $50 million. The elf on a shelf certainly is magical, by those accounts.
If you are done with the elves and need an exit plan or have not yet adopted and are trying to find a way out but are worried about what to tell your children, I offer a couple of solutions. You can tell them simply that adopting the elves is optional and you are opting out, or you can tell them you read on Reddit that the elves are a well-organized faction of disgruntled former North Pole employees, newly associated with NSA and maybe Google, who have manipulated their way into our homes through an unauthorized but extremely savvy marketing play. Their objective is to spy on us, make us buy stuff, stir up controversy, and ultimately to undermine the big man with the white beard. Unequivocally, the elves are not welcome in our house because WE STAND WITH SANTA.
I say we shelve the elves.
