The Return of the Elves 2014

It’s 1 December, so in the Trout Household that can mean only one thing: the elves have come back!

The minxes have been more excited about the return of the elves than they are about Christmas. They’ve been counting down the days till the end of November and continuously begging me to email Santa to say I’ve changed my mind about not wanting the elves to come back. I’ve been playing my part all year long, telling them that Santa promised me that they’d never come back. In reality, of course, I’ve been counting the days, too! I made sure that all my classes finished in November so that I have the whole of this month free to enjoy with the kids, plotting mischievous elf stuff – yippee!

So, how did they make their big appearance? Well, as luck would have it, I was minding a wee girl for a few hours. She and Mini Minx tucked up in front of Frozen, singing their little hearts out, while I nipped outside for 60 seconds. I left the elves in a shoebox by the side of the house with a letter from Santa. No-one ever goes there except Midi and Mini, who like to hide there on the way home from school.

After school I had a few errands to run. The girls missed their Highland Dance class because my car’s off the road*, so I let them choose a chocolate bar each. They dawdled home in the cold and the drizzle, reminded me again that we were the ‘only’ house in the street with no Christmas decorations up, and strolled to the front door. All except Midi, who walked at a normal pace, straight for the side of the house.

* I had yet another windscreen chip from a speeding driver kicking up gravel. Autoglass repaired it. The repair failed. I now have a 70+cm crack right across my windscreen. It looks like the crack through reality in Dr Who. It’s kinda distracting (!), so the police would definitely be justified with labelling it dangerous, were they to stop me. I’m taking no chances, the way my luck is at the moment. Autoglass aren’t exactly rushing to my aid to replace said screen…

Midi let out a blood-curdling shriek that meant she’d either found the shoebox or been murdered gruesomely. Out into the street she hopped, waving a lid with the kids’ initials on it, and my Santa signature. Her sisters crowded her, and they all jumped around, skipping and clapping and cheering, little eyes shining and smiling at each other.

That’s why I do this Elf on a Shelf thing: for jewel moments like that.

As I type, The Boss is cutting out a load of little elf hats that I copied and printed for tonight. I have a funny feeling that the elves will be behaving themselves for the first few days, to lull us into a false sense of safety.

Arghhhh, I love this bit of the year!

 

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