They stare at you with expressionless faces. You can set them in a corner, and no matter where you are in the room, a quick glance back, and the dolls are looking at you. It's a little unnerving. I find dolls to be utterly creepy. The older a doll is, the creepier it is.
This is why I wouldn't have an Elf on a Shelf. Their heads resemble that of dolls from the 1950s, sort of a cross between Chucky and Pinocchio.
A friend pointed out her Elf on a Shelf during a visit to her house. I wouldn't look in that direction because the tiny, hideously ugly little gremlin would be staring back at me.
The elf has a head that's a little too big and bulbous for the spindly, stuffed body. The strategically painted on shifty eyes and smirk make me think of every doll horror movie ever produced. In the movies, these dolls would come to life to kill. Not that Elf on a Shelf would kill, but the simple fact is this elf comes to life at night to report back to Santa, which is entirely disturbing.
For those that are unfamiliar with this Christmas tradition, the Elf on a Shelf is a special scout elf sent from the North Pole to help Santa Claus manage his naughty and nice lists. When a family adopts an elf and gives it a name, the elf receives the Christmas magic and can fly to the North Pole each night to report to Santa Claus. Each morning, the elf returns to its family and perches in a different place.
Of course, there are rules that every child should know when it comes to having an elf. First, an elf cannot be touched. Christmas magic is very fragile and if an elf is touched it may lose that magic and be unable to fly back to the North Pole. Second, an elf cannot speak or move while anyone in the house is awake. An elf's job is to watch and listen.
Isn't it enough that Santa can see you when you're sleeping, and knows when you're awake? Now, he needs a scary little personal assistant in every household?
Elves are moody trouble makers. From the beginning of December until Christmas, every night parents must remember to move the creature to a new location. Why? Because Elf on a Shelf doesn't have any feet, just two frightening little stumps. Nor does it have hands. How does this mischievous imp get into all that trouble without hands and feet?
Elf on a Shelf is a responsibility I don't want, nor do I have the time for. In my lack of organization at Christmas time, I can't even remember to open the doors on the advent calendars, let alone help this impish creature maneuver throughout the house.
This Christmas tradition has caught on like wildfire since its inception. I'm sure children love it, if they're not entirely weirded out.
Personally, Elf on a Shelf is what my nightmares are made of. I don't trust the shifty-eyed stalkers.
