The Elf on the Shelf is the creepiest thing since windowless white vans and that weird rabbit costume scene from The Shining

Apparently I'm a little behind the radar on the newest sensation of the blogosphere. But just in case you are, too, I knew I had to share.

People I Want to Punch in the Throat

This amazing little tidbit of actual reality is like a breath of slightly polluted air... and I love it. I haven't had the opportunity to read Jen's entire blog because I've got this silly little thing to attend to that I like to call work, but she is bookmarked and ready for me to enjoy at my next available opportunity to procrastinate.

If you have some time, I highly recommend the post that made her famous, Over Achieving Elf on the Shelf Mommies, and her latest post SOME Mall Santas. Guaranteed to make you laugh out loud and probably think "Oh thank GOD it's not just me."

Because as y'all know, I'm all about taking the rose-colored glasses of motherhood and not being afraid to let the world know that it's not all rainbows and butterflies up in here. 

I'm actually proud of Jen for even having an Elf.  It's December 20th and my tree is still not up so the sheer ambition it takes to have an Elf in the house and actually follow through with moving the Elf impresses me.  We don't have an Elf in the Spaz house because, frankly (and I know I'm not alone in this), the Elf creeps me the hell out. But if we did have one, I'm sure I'd forget to move him every night. In fact, I can almost bet I'd forget to move him most nights. My children think our house is on some sort of weird tooth-fairy rotation schedule for all the times I've forgotten to leave a buck under their pillows on lost tooth nights. 

But don't worry about that, y'all. The kids end up making out because I have such mom guilt about it that the tooth fairy pays double around here.

I'm sure if I attempted the Elf thing, that Sudo would either murder him while we all slept (how do you think Santa would take to his Elf's face being ripped off by our lovely Christmas dog?) or he would literally collect dust sitting on whatever shelf I put him on the first day he came out of the package.

"I don't know Goober. Maybe the Elf is so disappointed in your behavior that he can't bring himself to go back to actually tell Santa."

Whoever came up with this Elf concept is a genius. Far more of a genius than I am because if someone had approached me with this idea a few years ago I would have stared at them in shock and told them that not one mommy I know would dare to do this to their child.  Because the Elf horrifies me. The idea of a creepy little guy watching me inanimately all day long, coming to life the minute I go to sleep, magically flying to the North Pole in mere hours (from South Florida, y'all... I don't think so), tattling on me to Santa, and then making it back before I wake up.  The mere thought of it gives me literal heebie jeebies.