There are plenty of fantastic blog posts about how to properly place your Elf on the Shelf for optimum Christmas happiness. Such as…
A calender from People I Want To Punch In The Throat. This is a day by day schedule for placing Gooby McGooberpants in randomly selected locales. Helpful shit.
These are supposedly creepy ways to stage Dilweed Elfenstein. They aren’t creepy enough for me, but my sense of creep is fairly jaded.
There are also these quick tips from The Shitastrophy on how to deal with those days when you are too hung over or just too apathetic to move Jonathon CandyCaneDick. Helpful for those of you who enjoy sleeping when your kids are finally in bed as opposed to spending hours creating a diorama for a fucking elf.
We don’t have an elf nor a proper shelf. The shelves we have are full of dusty videocassettes and baby books with three photos in the front. They are in no way accommodating to some elf who needs to have intricate props set up every night for an entire month. Mr. 8 asked me last week why we don’t have this popular elf at our house and I answered in a way I felt would assist my child in future budgeting scenarios. “You can either have toys on Christmas morning or that elf. Not both. They want 35 bucks for that guy on Amazon.”
I’m constantly winning at parenting.
We did have a slut on a shelf last year. She was a White Elephant gift at our work Christmas Party and I had the good fortune of ending up with her in my hands at the end of the game. Slutty Nakedson was an 80’s era Barbie with dark hair, a Steelers jersey, and no pants. After consuming a few dark beers, too many whiskey shots and a couple celery sticks, I took it upon myself to pose Miss Nakedson in some rather inappropriate positions. She gave a BJ to the only elf we own and at one point I found her having a quickie with Santa. That chic has no shame.
What if you don’t end up shelling out 35 bucks for Stevie Fudgepacker? I’ve got you covered. Here are a few quick tips on how you can still enjoy Christmas with your kids and save your cash for more important purchases…like boxed wine or a bottle of Fireball Whiskey. Oh and presents…yeah…you should buy some shit for your kids, too.
1. Repurpose a Barbie. There is no good reason why the Barbie doll that your kids doused in Sharpie marker can’t be a stand in for an elf. She’s pose-able, small enough to fit in a coffee cup, and that broad has no shame. Which is obvious considering the way she hangs around your toy room without any clothes on.
2. Eat a candy cane. This is a great way to sidetrack your kids when they start questioning your parenting as it relates to that elf. “Where is our elf on the shelf?” your kids whine. “Guess who bought 8 packs of candy canes today? This gal!” Then you use both your thumbs to point at yourself and get really excited about that flavored hard candy you found boxed up in the basement from last year.
3. Talk about Jesus. We don’t even go to church, but I use this to divert my kids attention on a regular basis. I like to pull out the “Do you even know what the true meaning of Christmas is?” Then I just make up a few scenarios about what I think Jesus did around Christmas, like being born and getting his feet washed. My kids completely forget about that shelf squatter, Mr. Elf McStripey Underoos.
4. Buy an advent calender. For three bucks and a trip to the grocery store you can completely erase the idea of an elf by picking up a cardboard calender filled with inedible chunks of plastic doubling as chocolate pieces. On days when your kids are hounding you about their friend’s little elf and how he checks in with Santa regularly, you can whip out that calendar and yell, “You still have two pieces of candy in here with your name on it. Who loves you now?”
Excuse me while I go make myself another spiked eggnog and send out a search party for that scandalous, Steelers wearing Barbie who was fornicating on our shelf last year. She’s always invited to my party.
Are you elfing up your fucking shelf this year? Comment below and tell me why or why not.