The More the Merrier

Anyone with children has heard of the Elf On the Shelf. Personally, I thought the whole idea was creepy until last year. That's when my mom bought a couple of handmade elves from a woman at her church. All Nordic-looking, and detailed with tiny stitches and adorable braids and beards, I fell in love with them. My mom took notes, and a year later, we now house a veritable troupe of Christmas elves.

The odds are looking good for Axel and Hans.

It's been fun, having this large group of tiny, elvish creatures join our family for a month. But honestly, the creepy feeling has returned. Just a little. Okay, more than a little.

Maybe it has to do with the fact that the kids keep moving them throughout the day, and I'll find them staring at me from the inside of a cupboard. Or lounging on a pillow in our bedroom. Or straddling the faucet in the bathroom. They get around, these guys. And, when they do return to their traditional roost, the tree looks more like an overbooked, Norwegian ski chalet than a nordman fir.

All that aside, I still love them. And let's get real here - blaming the crazy-level of our home life on six felt Christmas elves is certainly a case of the pot calling the kettle black. We lead a raucous life as it is, and guess what? That's the way we like it. So, the more elves, the merrier, I say. All I ask is that they stay the hell out of my underwear drawer.