Gather 'round, friends. Gather 'round. It's time for my annual Christmas Post. You know the one- in which I lament the difficulties of keeping up with the "magic of childhood" and impart to you all the despicable ways in which I've abused the Power of Santa? This'll be the fourth year of such a post, and I know- I know- it's getting old. If you need to catch up, go on and click here and here and here, but I can save you the trouble and make a long story short: basically, I suck at lying to my kids about Santa. The legend of jolly old St. Nick in our house has become a twisted labyrinth of lies upon more lies that cover up the first lies, and I'm pretty sure that my children view Santa as a character in a slightly scary urban myth rather than as a magical part of their childhood. No matter. PG knows the truth this year anyway, which means I only have to keep up the facade for a few more years until the littlest littles figure it out. Then I can be done with the whole debacle.
Good riddance.
Anyway. You all know the current Elf On A Shelf craze? It occurred to me last month that here, I've always felt guilty for manipulating my kids' behavior with empty "naughty list" threats, when this is silly. You know why it's silly? Because all you 'Elf on the Shelf' people are telling your kids that there is an actual physical spy in your house that reports directly back to Santa. And then you trick your kids into believing that this little toy elf actually moves around the house at night while they are sleeping.
After I got over the audacity of it all, I knew at once that I had to get in on the action.
Now, Elves on Shelves run at about $30, which, to me, is more money than I want to spend ontraumatizing making magical memories for my children. Luckily, I remembered an alternative.
Friends, meet Bucky.
Bucky is the Christmas Elf from my childhood. He used to go on our tree, near the top. In fact, my dad used to make us laugh by positioning Bucky right under our tree angel so that he was looking up her gown. All you moms and pops out there taking pictures of your elves in precarious situations with Barbie- you think you've got the first elf with wanton desires? Psshhh. Bucky is the OG yo. THE OG. And yes, his elfin nose is smudged with dirt and sure, his once-forest-green elf suit has faded to a murky swamp green, but if there's anywhere that a grubby, forty-year old pervy elf is going to belong, it's got to be here with this family.
Plus, he was free and beggars can't be choosers. Right?
Anyway, here's Bucky's back story: he went renegade about 25 years ago. That's right. Working for the fat man in the suit took it's toll, and Bucky decided to go off the grid. He's been venturing the big, wide world to see what kind of life there is out there for an elf who wants more than what the North Pole had to offer. I mean, the crazy parties and lifetime supply of gumdrops were nice, but Bucky knew there was more out there for him than a few sugar-loaded nights and an unrequited flirtation with a tree angel. He's an elf who heard the call of the wild my friends, and he answered that call. For twenty five years, he trekked, he explored, and he quested his little heart out. He explored places that no man has ever been and seen sights that no man should ever see.... but now he's back.
The truth is, he really missed the gumdrops.
So, on December 1st, the kids came home from a movie with their grandma and found Bucky at the front door waiting for them. His little candy cane hobo sack was filled with gumdrops and a note that said "I'm back. Be good." Roo immediately started crying and telling me that Bucky was "creepy" (That's a direct quote. Yay for childhood magic! ) We got her past it.
Since then, Bucky been caught sharing war stories around the campfire.
He also went on a drinking binge.
He's also played Jenga with a Flutter-By Fairy (could it be he was wishing that she'd fly over his head so he could relive his glory days with the tree angel?) and rappelled dangerously down a pine garland. As far as my kids are concerned, Bucky's just been roasting marshmallows, drinking our honey, and having a good old time with our toys. I'm not going to lead them in any other direction- mostly because I think I've scarred them enough in the past. However, you and I? We know differently. Bucky knows differently. He's been around the block more than once. He's jingled all the way, and once you go that far baby, you don't come back from it.
Now if you'll excuse me, I've got a stand off to plan between Bucky, some army guys, and a bobble-head Santa.
Wish me luck, guys. I'm going in.
Good night.
Good riddance.
Anyway. You all know the current Elf On A Shelf craze? It occurred to me last month that here, I've always felt guilty for manipulating my kids' behavior with empty "naughty list" threats, when this is silly. You know why it's silly? Because all you 'Elf on the Shelf' people are telling your kids that there is an actual physical spy in your house that reports directly back to Santa. And then you trick your kids into believing that this little toy elf actually moves around the house at night while they are sleeping.
After I got over the audacity of it all, I knew at once that I had to get in on the action.
Now, Elves on Shelves run at about $30, which, to me, is more money than I want to spend on
Friends, meet Bucky.
Bucky is the Christmas Elf from my childhood. He used to go on our tree, near the top. In fact, my dad used to make us laugh by positioning Bucky right under our tree angel so that he was looking up her gown. All you moms and pops out there taking pictures of your elves in precarious situations with Barbie- you think you've got the first elf with wanton desires? Psshhh. Bucky is the OG yo. THE OG. And yes, his elfin nose is smudged with dirt and sure, his once-forest-green elf suit has faded to a murky swamp green, but if there's anywhere that a grubby, forty-year old pervy elf is going to belong, it's got to be here with this family.
Plus, he was free and beggars can't be choosers. Right?
Anyway, here's Bucky's back story: he went renegade about 25 years ago. That's right. Working for the fat man in the suit took it's toll, and Bucky decided to go off the grid. He's been venturing the big, wide world to see what kind of life there is out there for an elf who wants more than what the North Pole had to offer. I mean, the crazy parties and lifetime supply of gumdrops were nice, but Bucky knew there was more out there for him than a few sugar-loaded nights and an unrequited flirtation with a tree angel. He's an elf who heard the call of the wild my friends, and he answered that call. For twenty five years, he trekked, he explored, and he quested his little heart out. He explored places that no man has ever been and seen sights that no man should ever see.... but now he's back.
The truth is, he really missed the gumdrops.
Since then, Bucky been caught sharing war stories around the campfire.
He also went on a drinking binge.
He's also played Jenga with a Flutter-By Fairy (could it be he was wishing that she'd fly over his head so he could relive his glory days with the tree angel?) and rappelled dangerously down a pine garland. As far as my kids are concerned, Bucky's just been roasting marshmallows, drinking our honey, and having a good old time with our toys. I'm not going to lead them in any other direction- mostly because I think I've scarred them enough in the past. However, you and I? We know differently. Bucky knows differently. He's been around the block more than once. He's jingled all the way, and once you go that far baby, you don't come back from it.
Now if you'll excuse me, I've got a stand off to plan between Bucky, some army guys, and a bobble-head Santa.
Wish me luck, guys. I'm going in.
Good night.
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