When you have a little one, you have to go the extra mile to make their holidays special while they still believe.
Nolan's elf was named by him "Mary Penguin." Ahh, the innovative imaginations of children. This is our fourth year with M.P. and she's gotten herself into all sorts of mischief from her hopping around through "elf magic," i.e. parental manipulation. We've enjoyed a lot of shenanigans boyo will never know about until he's older, and those photos of Mary getting tossed with Woody, Buzz Lightyear and Kermit the Frog ought to be priceless to him down the road.
Ditto for Mary getting saved by and then getting it on with Indiana Jones. Her fight with Skeletor is legendary, nearly as epic as her duel with Kylo Ren. Mary and Godzilla have quite a little odd friendship going; they like to watch old 'zilla and Gamera flicks and I know they're communing amongst themselves sarcastically Mystery Science Theater 3000-style. Then there's the time she wrecked a toy car and caused a major ruckus under the Christmas tree. Puking in the toilet, well, I guess everyone's elf has done that since this damned Elf On the Shelf tradition got started, and Mary's no exception, the lush.
Mary steals my protein powder, dive-bombs into a pool of marshmallows and I've even caught her copping a feel on my wife's Betty Boop while reaching underskirt of one of the redheaded Celtic dolls. She's done it doggy style with a Halloween skeleton that missed the packing box, thus Mary loves her "Bone Daddy" and he looks forward to Christmas as much as anyone. Most of the time, Mary's innocent and sweet for Nolan, but we know the truth.
This year she's been caught pushing Cure and Beatles discs at me to play, challenging me to a game of Simpsons chess and I just can't keep a shot glass out of her reach, since her annual bourbon toasts with me are tradition. Well, here she's at it again, digging into my copy of Wonder Woman '77 Meets The Bionic Woman # 1, the sneaky wench.
Our elf has good taste, at least.