Can you believe it? That quirky Elf on the Shelf has been around since 2005! For 12 years, this little guy has been both a source of joy and frustration for parents everywhere. When my oldest, Alex, was just four, we decided to buy one of those mischievous elves online. After reading the backstory, we named him “Flibber.” Well, actually, that was all Alex’s doing—I’d never choose a name like Flibber.
So, we began the tradition of moving Flibber around the house. I’m not speaking for all parents, but let’s be real—most of us got the Elf as a clever tool for discipline. Sure, it’s all fun and games about an elf reporting back to Santa, but we mostly just wanted to point and say, “Santa is watching.” Looking back, it feels a bit like a parenting surveillance system. (Sorry, kiddos!)
Over the years, thanks to Pinterest, Elf on the Shelf has morphed into an elaborate event. It’s not just about moving him from spot to spot anymore; it’s turned into a competitive game. How many parents out there have forgotten to relocate that little dude? I know I have. The first time I forgot, I told Alex that the elf was sticking around because he was waiting for him to behave better. Alex looked terrified and immediately started cleaning up his toys. I felt like I had won, but let’s be honest—I totally lied to my kid. Why? To save the elf’s reputation? Not my finest parenting moment.
Then, of course, parents started getting creative, setting up wild scenarios each night and posting them online. Suddenly, we all wondered if we were failing as parents if we didn’t stage Flibber in a toothpaste disaster or a wild rendezvous with Queen Elsa. Spoiler alert: we weren’t failing, but that didn’t stop the pressure. The elf became a source of stress rather than joy. Flour for snow angels? Just another mess to clean up!
Yet, I must admit, Flibber does add a bit of charm to our holiday rituals. He always makes his entrance the morning after we set up the Christmas tree, perched at the top, watching over the living room with those slightly creepy eyes. Now, it’s not just Alex; it’s also his two younger sisters who eagerly await Flibber’s arrival. Every December morning, the kids jump out of bed, searching for him, chatting with him, and even daring each other to touch him to see if he’ll move. It encourages them to think about their actions and how they treat one another, which is a nice bonus.
Despite the annoyance, it’s all pretty adorable. Honestly, I can’t imagine a Christmas without Flibber. As much as I want to toss that little guy out, the magic he brings is hard to deny.
Alex is almost 11 now. When he was 8, I played Santa at a church party, and during a moment together, he realized the truth. That Christmas Eve, he stayed up with my wife and me to help place presents under the tree. As he looked up at Flibber, I asked if he wanted to hold him. He looked a bit confused but nodded. When he cradled the elf, he softly said, “It’s just a doll.” In that moment, I realized how much Flibber had contributed to his Christmas spirit.
Now, Alex helps me move Flibber each night, becoming my little helper. It’s a wild journey watching this tradition evolve. So yeah, this elf can be annoying and weird, but the kids love him. As long as it keeps their holiday spirit alive, I’ll keep the tradition going. I bet many of you will too.
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In summary, the Elf on the Shelf has become a complicated yet cherished part of our holiday traditions. Despite its quirks, it brings joy and a sense of wonder to my kids, making it hard to imagine the holidays without him.
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