Four Feet More

He's our new house elf. Only he doesn't cook or clean for us as the house elves from Harry Potter do. He's more of a scout, watching the kids and reporting both their good deeds and bad back to Santa.

On Thanksgiving, my step-father, Ed, presented an "Elf on the Shelf" to all 4 of the "big kids" (my brother, step-sister, step-brother and I) to share with our families. It was a bit emotional as he talked of this tradition he wanted us to start with our kids and keep going to remember him and mom after they're gone. A bit maudlin really, but the gesture was appreciated, nonetheless. The elf came with a storybook, which the kids and I read last night, and at the end were instructions to choose a name for the elf.

The kids’ first choice was "Willy," after the elf in "Fred Claus." Personally, I hate that name, so I told the kids that "Willy" was another name for a boy's private parts, and suitably horrified, they dropped the name from contention. (I know, I'm a terrible parent). Then, on the way home from Mom and Ed's, Eamon said, "How about we name the elf Jon Stewart?"

I think my heart grew a little bigger for the boy at that point. ;)

Finally, after some more discussion, I suggested "Merripen." Jeff and Vika both liked the name right away, but Eamon was still pushing for Jon Stewart. However, when I explained that Merripen sounds a bit like "Merry Christmas" and reminded me of the hobbit Merry from "The Lord of the Rings," Eamon decided he liked it too, and thus, our elf was named.

Here's how the elf works. He arrives around Thanksgiving and observes your kids until Christmas Eve. Each night, he flies back to Santa in the North Pole and gives his report. The next day, the elf is sitting in a different spot than he was before, showing that he did indeed move during the night.

The kids already love this idea. This morning, Eamon rushed down to find where Merripen was sitting today. He and Vika are in a bit of a competition to see who can find him first each morning. Vika, ever the clever girl, is writing letters to Santa and hiding them around the house. She whispers to Merripen where they are hidden so that if he is truly magical, he can take them back to the North Pole each night. If he's not magical, she thinks that she'll catch Jeff and I in some elaborate holiday conspiracy, thus proving her suspicions that Santa doesn't really exist. Hopefully we'll manage to stay one step ahead of her (and since Eamon can't keep a secret, we can probably get him to rat out her hiding places).

And so, a new holiday tradition for our family is born. Hopefully it is one we will carry on, long after our children abandon their status as "believers."