I guess that makes me the angry elf
I thought maybe we could make ginger bread houses, and eat cookie dough, and go ice skating, and maybe even hold hands. Buddy the Elf
I live with Elf. We call him Bubby, for copyrighting purposes, but you get the idea. He is Smiles and Urgency and Squeals. Overly fond of syrup. He is wearing me out.
Now, don't get me wrong: Living with a perky elf has its advantages. He will get up early with a spring in his step, ready to take on the day. He loves people. He loves smiles. He has more energy and exuberance than he knows what to do with and I thank God for giving me such a cheerful little guy.
But at 6 am, sans coffee, I find myself shushing. When I am overwhelmed by laundry and dirty floors, I find myself growing irritable, which I am pretty sure makes me the angry elf in this scenario. (My apologies to Will Ferrell and the greater Elf population.)
So I am forcibly letting go (try that oxymoron on for size) of some of my neurotic 'I have to do Christmas this way' notions, for this little Elf is on loan, for a limited time engagement.
I live with Elf. We call him Bubby, for copyrighting purposes, but you get the idea. He is Smiles and Urgency and Squeals. Overly fond of syrup. He is wearing me out.
Now, don't get me wrong: Living with a perky elf has its advantages. He will get up early with a spring in his step, ready to take on the day. He loves people. He loves smiles. He has more energy and exuberance than he knows what to do with and I thank God for giving me such a cheerful little guy.
But at 6 am, sans coffee, I find myself shushing. When I am overwhelmed by laundry and dirty floors, I find myself growing irritable, which I am pretty sure makes me the angry elf in this scenario. (My apologies to Will Ferrell and the greater Elf population.)
So I am forcibly letting go (try that oxymoron on for size) of some of my neurotic 'I have to do Christmas this way' notions, for this little Elf is on loan, for a limited time engagement.
Comments
I love your "forcibly letting go" resolution. Last night, my boy looked down at me from his mighty height to wish me good night, and I found myself crying. Where did my little Elf go?
Love you, wise elf!
And will likely see him like that in 10 years too.
Weird.
I totally know how you feel.
My daughter is hounding me to get out various scraps of things and glue so she can make gifts for people for Christmas. Our house is in such disarray w. the construction, I really don't want craft materials adding to the mess. But she seems so earnest about it. Perhaps this weekend we will take a trip to JoAnn Crafts to get some sort of non-messy project she can work on. I am thinking ornament of some sort...
-Stu
And that was the best oxymoron I've heard in a long time.