The Elf on the 2020 Shelf

It’s been a strange old year, hasn’t it? Riding the old Corona-coaster: lockdown, re-emergence, second wave and the prospect winter - of more lockdowns.

I know it’s only just November and no one probably wants to think about Christmas yet – especially not at the moment.

But I’m going to talk about it anyway. I thought it might give you all some elf ideas and in a purely selfish way I want a break. The Elf can take the strain this month.

Before we start: if you know my children or have children who know them - Please don’t let them know about this post. Mainly because of what I’m about to write next.

'I hate the frigging Christmas Elf on the Shelf"

There. I said it. Perhaps 'hate' is probably too strong, but I certainly have issues with it.

At first, I thought it was cute and fun to move a 'naughty' little festive elf around every night - the idea being that he would go back to the North Pole to report to Father Christmas.

Sure, it was fun and cute when I had a 5 and 3-year-old.

It is not quite so fun and cute now that I have a 11 and 9-year-old, who insist on continuing the spiel.

Honestly, I think the Elf thing will never end. I can see my daughter, aged 18+, ringing home every morning from University in the run up to Christmas just so she check where the elf has ended up. She’ll probably want photographic evidence too.

The reason I can see this is that she is just like me and this is what I would have done...

Luckily, I do love Christmas and am happy to continue the Elf madness but I do fear my husband is tired of it now which makes it far more difficult - and a lot less enjoyable for me!

It does make me laugh that something I thought about for less than 5 minutes, 6 years ago, has now become (and looks like it'll stay) a family tradition.

I started it in December 2014 following my very scary operation in the February. We’d all suffered and it was a bit of light relief.

The first year it was brilliant. The Elf arrived at the front door and we suggested to the children that Father Christmas had left him when delivering their advent calendars.

My then 5-year-old daughter held him aloft and yelled, 'Santa, you forgot your elf!' It was magical. My son, meanwhile, was only 3, and just kept saying 'chocolate calendars!'

The both loved the Elf and called him 'Elvis' - which still seems a very grown up name but that’s what they called him.

That first year Elvis had a jam-packed schedule. He played poker with the barbie dolls, wrapped up their bags for pre-school and even scaled my in-law’s grandfather clock.

But as the years passed, the Elf has got – well, a bit more complacent. As have I.

First, there is the panic come the end of November about WHERE you put the Elf the year before “because he can't just not arrive”!

I have also lost count of number of times my husband and I have turned to each in bed and asked: "Have you hidden the frigging elf?".

Last year, after the Elf had been found hiding for several days in pretty unimaginative places upstairs (it was late and we wanted to go to sleep) my daughter asked me why he’d got so lazy.

I already know that this year is going to be harder than ever, because my husband had (suspected) Coronavirus in early April and still gets ridiculously tired by 10pm. So the Elf hiding antics is going to be my job - and my job alone.

But as I look back at all our photos and recall the most amazing memories, I get more enthusiastic.

Whilst I might 'hate', ok - strongly dislike the Elf in the moment, (usually I’m trying to find another hiding place for it) I know that in future years I'll appreciate my efforts and imagination.

So, let’s bring on the elf antics!

I think this year, I am going to start by quarantining him for 14 days, ensure he downloads the Track and Trace app and then maybe subject him to a Tier 3 lockdown till January.

What do you think, Elvis?...