The Incident

So, let's see--it's T-minus-six-days, until Christmas so I should be ready and enjoying the season, right?  Wrong.  Really I have so much left to do, am slightly freaking out and…I know it sounds paranoid but The Little Drummer Boy song is stalking me.  Every station, every store, he’s everywhere and I can't bear to hear "Pa-rum-pa-pum-pum" one more time. We get it. Your drum makes a noise.

Anyways...I can finally try to pull myself out of this holiday rage now that work has settled down.  Who knew that the President of Gap Inc. would want to shoot the shit about Boise State Football?  My boss nearly died, and I just rolled with it.  Good thing I know a guy who taught me a thing or two!

Rhys got some chocolate while the kids did gingerbread houses...and no seizures!

We are have fun with “Friendly the Elf”.  He made his appearance last year and the kids couldn’t wait for him to come back.  However, we did have an incident. 

Rob’s parents are visiting for the holidays.  Papa Bob wanted to dip into the candy dish, which happened to be where Elfy had landed for the day.  All the sudden a blood-curdling scream, the kind that makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up and prompts an instinctive reaction of Bolt and Get to my Kid. You would have expected blood. "I thought a poisonous snake bit her," my father-in-law admitted later. Rob called me at work and said, “We have a problem.”

So when I got home McCall was being so brave and trying not to cry.  

“Tell me what happened McCall”, I said.

"Papa Bob....Papa Bob....(gasp, gasp)," she couldn't finish.

"Papa Bob what? Papa Bob WHAT?" I insisted.

"Papa touched the elf."

And this is the point I admit--having an elf might very well @*!# up your kid.

I responded quickly and (ir)rationally. I drafted a letter from Santa, on his own stationary of course, which had “magic dust” (glitter and sugar).  Santa instructed her to sprinkle the dust on Elfy so he could get his magic back.  Turns out it worked, because this morning he was taking a marshmallow bath in the bathroom!

 

"This is ridiculous," Rob mumbled and laughed. And I know he's right, but I wanted to save the magic. I mean, you should have seen their face when I made elf donuts the other day (cheerios with sprinkles).  They smile the biggest smiles every morning every morning when they find him in a new spot, and there's something so beautiful about the power of imagination--the ability of a really good story to add wonder and magic and tradition to our Decembers. But I also don't want my kids to end up in Christmas therapy someday. 

Mr. Pouty Pants.  He wasn't ready for me to take a picture :)

 And that's how Christmas magic is reinstated after a small elf disaster. The End.