Now that Thanksgiving is over, we’re expecting the return of a houseguest for the next few weeks. For the past four or five years a little elf has made his way into our house and he won’t leave until Christmas.The Elf on the Shelf. Ours is named Buddy.This is the first year that I thought about Buddy before he showed up, which means he won’t scare the hell out of me when I see him swinging from a chandelier, or rappelling down the vertical blinds, or worst of all, staring at me from inside a box of graham crackers when I open the pantry in the morning.Buddy’s lucky he hasn’t met a horrible end with as many times as he’s startled me. Between his penchant for finding the perfect hiding place, and that shifty-eyed look he always has on his face, he probably has the greatest scare per ounce ratio of any object in the universe. He weighs nothing, but I guarantee one of those things has been responsible for the death of a human sometime in the past five years.I’m actually happy to see him though. The kids have a great time looking for him every morning, and his presence means it’s the holiday season, so that’s an added bonus. We take the good with the bad, but I suppose I don’t mind getting scared every now and then in exchange for the joy he brings my kids.But there’s a limit to this nonsense. I’ve seen pictures that people have posted of their own Elfs (Elves?) on the Shelf, and some of those things are absolute assholes.They’ve spilled bags of flour, dumped chocolate syrup, and sat in makeshift hot tubs with Barbie and her elf-loving friends. And some of them are just disgusting. I saw one perched on the edge of a toilet seat and using a string to fish for Cheerios from the toilet. What the hell’s wrong with these things? Don’t elves use toilets in the North Pole? Why hasn’t Santa taught them anything about basic sanitation?Luckily, Buddy hasn’t crossed any line like that, yet. But if he does I’ll be sure to lay down the law. I refuse to sit idly by and watch some elf sit on the edge of the toilet one day and then hide in an open bag of Chips Ahoy the next. I don’t care if he’s Santa’s helper or not, gross is gross.Although I suspect teaching those things a lesson is easier said that done. I’ve talked to Buddy quite a bit (“Good hiding place today, Buddy!” “Do you think that’s safe, Buddy? It looks to me that your arms are going to get tired by the end of the day and you’re going to plunge into the dog’s food bowl.”), and he never acknowledges anything I say. He just keeps that same look, obviously assuming that his charming smile and the identity of his boss is going to provide some sort of immunity from punishment.Actually, there is one issue I want to discuss with Buddy. In case you don’t know, the Elf on the Shelf is supposed to hide in a new place each night, and the kids find him. He can move around the house at night, but Santa imposes a strict No Movement policy on them during the day. This is fine because the kids have a blast looking for him each morning.But sometimes, when the kids start looking for him they discover that he hasn’t moved since the previous night. Then they start asking me why he hasn’t moved, and I don’t have the first damn clue. I’m not an elf and I’m not Santa (I’m somewhere in between, in so many ways), so I don’t have that kind of information.Hopefully this year Buddy will either move every night or not move at all. Each time I see that he hasn’t moved I worry that he died and I imagine having to break that news to the kids. No thanks.There’s now about a month until Christmas, so Buddy’s going to be around for a while. And as long as he doesn’t scare me to death or die unexpectedly, then I’m happy he’s back.Especially if he puts in a good word with Santa for me.Click here to receive an e-mail each time I write a new post! Guaranteed spam-free, unsubscribe any time IF YOU LIKED THIS POST I BET YOU'LL ALSO LIKE: Enjoy the Holiday Season Before it's Too LatePREVIOUS POST: Why Won't Anyone in China Read my Blog?