I'm not usually much of a band-wagon-jumper-onner. Not usually. But... I have been really digging the
Elf on the Shelf thing for several years. It's totally marketed to suckers like me.
What? Start a fun holiday tradition? Build special memories that will last a lifetime? What? I don't care how much it costs, I MUST have it! Yup. Total sucker for stuff like that.
So here he is. His name is Fuzzbutton Candy-Eater. That's right. Nice, huh? The boys named him. After Max and I laughed for a prolonged period of time coming up with names like;
Stinker, Poo-Pants, and Stinky-cane. Naming a Christmas elf
Poo-Pants is the very epitome of humor if you are a four year old boy, you know. Or a thirty-five year old woman, apparently.
Yesterday morning, Fuzzbutton Candy-Eater found his way into the embarrassingly huge bowl of candy on top of our refrigerator. (I just can't bring myself to throw it out. You never know when Mama might need a Snickers.) When Max spotted him, he gasped.
I see Fuzzbutton Candy-Eater! He's in the candy bowl!
Do you think he's going to eat all the candy? I asked.
Maybe. He replied.
Or, maybe he's just a toy and he can't really talk.
Ummm... Maybe, Max.
Maybe.
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