Elf on a Shelf

I have been thinking about doing this for awhile.  I like the idea of creating magic for my children.  I hate the idea of a tattle-tale.  I haven't been fond of the, "If you don't behave, I'll tell Santa" idea for quite awhile.  But, then some of my Bible study mamas started talking about all of the "mischief" that their elf creates.  I started to reconsider.  I was thisclose to putting it in my basket Target.  I looked it over and decided that it was way too creepy looking.  And THEN they aired a 23 minute movie about it on Friday.  It made it into my basket and through the check out this morning.  I still find it creepy looking.

William and Henry spent the night at Gaga and D's (my mother and father-in-law's) last night.  Before pick up, I put the tree up and decorated.  I placed our elf among the decorations.  Henry came in first.  (William had fallen asleep in the car).  Henry was in AWE of the tree.  Especially the jingle bell Christmas balls I bought at the after Christmas sales.  The Christmas tree didn't really register with him last year, so it was so fun to watch him take in the wonder of the lights and ornaments.

Then, William came in.  I tried to subtly point out the elf.

Look up here.  I put your (beloved) snow globe up here.

Yeah, I see it.

See this snowman ornament that broke (strategically placed right in front of the elf).

I see it.

And then, the obvious.

Do you see the elf?

Yeah.  Just like on the movie.  But, it's not a real elf.  It's just a decoration.  It's not magic.

Are you sure?

Yeah.  It's not moving.

The elf in the movie didn't move while the kids were awake.  Not until they went to bed.

It's just a decoration.  It's not magic.

Sigh.  I think that we're supposed to name it.

What about Lightsaber?

Ben:  I don't think that we should name it after a weapon.

What about Stinkypants?

That's not a very nice name.  I would hate for him to have to tell Santa that you named him Stinkypants.

How about just Pants?  That doesn't have Stinky in it.

I don't think so.  What about Pixie?

That's WAY too sparkly.  (Can't argue with that).

How about Foxie? (I really don't know where I came up with that.  Or why I chose to spell it with an -ie rather than a -y.  But after a few rounds, we decided to keep it).

We then read the story and he decided that Foxie WAS indeed magic.  He's still skeptical, though.  Mostly because he doesn't move.

And, as much as I hate the tattle-tale thing, I have to admit that it was a pretty heady feeling to tell him that I might have to tell Foxie about his refusal to finish his dinner.  Worked like a charm. 

(I forgot the best part.  After he first recognized Foxie as being magical, he proclaimed)


I think I'm going to get a little bit naked now.




 

Preferences

My mom called tonight as I was on my way home.  She asked that I stop by so that she could give William a present.  She had been at our church's "store" to buy herself a nativity.  Boo begged her for a smaller nativity and my mom caved.  She asked William if he wanted anything, but he declined.  He had been interested in a snow globe of the nativity, so my mom wanted to get it for him as a "happy" sometime.  Which brings us to tonight.

William, we need to stop by Mimi's.  She has a little present for you.

A present?  Why'd Mimi get me a present?


Remember when you and Boo were at church and Mimi got her a nativity?  She wanted to get you a little "happy," too.

I hope it's not a...(something I didn't catch).  And as I'm saying, "It's not a toy," he's saying

because I like Jesus, I just like Star Wars better.

Needless to say, he was a might disappointed.


And later...

It's just too pretty for a little young boy like me.  And too precious.  Too, too precious.  That stuff's for girls.

Those lessons on graciousness haven't stuck yet, apparently.   

On Road Rage

We went to church last night.  Ben (the husband) and I took separate cars so that my mom (Mimi) could ride with me.  We don't have that fancy third row seating, so we can only accommodate two adults and two children.  William was going to ride with me so that he could also ride with Mimi and Henry didn't have much to say either way, so it was set. Until William changed his mind.  No big deal, right?  Turned out, it kind of was.

As I was merging onto the the pre-merging lane, I saw Ben's car in my rear view mirror.  And another car that was behind me in the pre-merging lane.  Ben sped up to try to get in front of said car.  When it became obvious that Ben was going to be unsuccessful, he slowed down.  I made a comment to my mom that Ben will surely consider said driver a complete idiot, as is anyone who does not do what Ben thinks is the "right thing."

When we got to church, Ben and William were waiting for us in the foyer.  Ben tells me that he "had a moment" and forgot William was in the car with him.  Called it.  I didn't ask him what he said.  We were in church. Couldn't be that bad, could it?

This morning, William tells Ben

I know what you said last night and I know what it means.  You know, when that car almost got us in a accident.

What's that?

You said "funky tree hole."

Thanks a lot, Dad.  Good thing he had no point of reference to comprehend what you REALLY said.

Good job.

Funky tree hole.
 

 

It's a Toss Up

as to whether William will grow up to have a quick wit, or will need extensive therapy.

Scene from this morning.  (Saying that William is not a morning person is an understatement, by the way).

William, you look so handsome.

Stop saying that I look handsome.

Well, then you look ugly.

Stop saying that I look ugly. Stop calling me names.

Parent fail. Put another dollar in the therapy jar.

Moniker

Forgot about this little gem from Halloween night.  We were grilling hotdogs on our charcoal grill.  We had the little chimney, fire-starter thingy going, smoke billowing.  William walked over, raised his hands above his head like he was Abracadabra-ing the grill and proclaimed

I am the William of hotness!

Tonight as he was eating dinner, he brought up his new, self-imposed nickname again and then elaborated

You know why I am the William of hotness?  It's because I like hot things.

Makes sense.

And, if he wants to pursue a career as a Chippendale, he already has a suitable stage name picked out.