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Elves (and Egg) Return to Oxford
They’re back.
Those red-suited, cherubic-yet-disturbing elves are back on our shelves, Christmas tree limbs, bedposts, mantels, and other precarious spots. Make no mistake: an Elf on the Shelf is a magical creature—definitely not a thing a child’s parents bought in a box.
You say he looks a little different this year? Child, that’s not because mommy and daddy misplaced him since last Christmas and ran out last night to Square Books Jr. for a new one. It’s because he’s aged a year since he flew off to the North Pole last Christmas Eve, of course.
He’s back to monitor your every word and deed, just like Google and Facebook. You were ugly to your sister? Saw it. Gave your little brother a wedgie? Tsk, tsk.
Whatever your elf’s name, be it a he or a she, be sure to keep on the sunny side and mind your manners in his or her presence—and wherever you are, because he/she can magically see your ever move. Like Tyler Siskey with a pair of binoculars.
So, be good.
— Tad Wilkes, tad.wilkes@hottytoddy.com