Ok, this reeks of crass commercialism I’m sure, but we bought into this “Christmas Elf” thing this year, and my son really likes it.
Basically the idea is that there’s this army of elves crawling all over the world, spying for Santa and ratting you out if you knock over a lamp or stuff Cheerios up your brother’s nose. The elf “flies”, using magical powers, back to the North Pole every night, and spills his dirt to Santa. Then he flies back, and roosts in a new location in the house, typically high up and away from curious little hands.
You buy the elf and this book, and I’m sure it’s overpriced (my mother bought it for us). To strike fear in the hearts of THE RETAIL, I figure you ought to make your own. At any rate, we’re tools of capitalism, so we have the real deal.
And you name it. Sean, being three, named ours Goofball.
Goofball broke in last night and cleverly concealed himself on the kitchen light fixture. See for yourself.