Once upon a time there was a little girl who dreamed about having her own Elf on the Shelf. She had heard exciting tales of friends' elves who went on daily adventures while doing their work for Santa and she longed for an elf to call her own. Too bad the girl's parents were a bit prejudiced against elves and the thought of a spy in their midst (even a stuffed one) just gave them the heebie jeebies.
But the little girl couldn't be swayed. With a twinkle in her eyes she gleefully drew pictures of elves and wrote letters to Santa about his apparent oversight in not sending an elf to their house. The parents heard breathless reports excitedly recounting the escapades that her friends' elves seemed to have on a regular basis.
Ziplining, skiing, treat making, note writing, etc.
What the what?!?!
They couldn't even keep up with folding the laundry regularly, how the heck were they supposed to exert that kind direct (and creative) parental intervention on a nightly basis?!
Adopting an elf was simply too much work, and as such they were determined that there was no way a little elf was going to join their Christmas tradition list.
Then, one day, in a moment of
weakness compassion, they allowed one to
show up last year.
The little girl was beyond thrilled and immediately dubbed "Delph the Shelf Elf"!
Weirdly...the parents discovered quickly that elf ownership suited them...
and soon their elf was going on the kind of crazy adventures that the parents had mocked mightily before they had one of their own.
The dad, in particular, really embraced his role as elf mentor and made sure that their elf did not live a boring life...
Grocery shopping...
dates with girls….
popping out of cereal boxes and swinging from the chandelier...
and even getting kidnapped by aliens ...
their elf has had a great year...
and there is more than one excited child/adult in their house that is already looking forward to his return next year.
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