I don’t like when dolls appear like they are staring at me.
It weirds me out to the point where I turn them around so they face the wall.
Or I cover them with a blanket.
Sometimes they’ve been known to get lost in the garage.
This is why I do not do Elf on a Shelf.
Elf on a Shelf, for those who don’t know, is this thing:
It’s supposed to watch your kids and make them behave. Or something. And then it reports back to Santa.
The parent is supposed to change the elf position daily.
First of all, I’d forget to do this. I have enough to do this holiday season than worry about an elf.
Second of all, can we say creepy? Look at those eyes! (Hello, Chucky!)
I wouldn’t want those eyes staring at me. (Hello, clown from IT!)
And those eyes are supposed to REPORT BACK TO SANTA. (Hello, evil doll that haunted an entire family on a show on the SyFy channel!)
Third, my kids would mock the elf. They wouldn’t buy the story. I’d find the poor elf in an awful place like the toilet. Or…shudders…MY BED!
So no, thank you.
I’ll continue to use my old threat that continues to hold up to this day:
“I know Santa’s phone number and I’ll call him if you’re naughty and then, well, no presents for you.”
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