Last Friday, a little Elf with sweet, mischievous eyes, arrived at our home while we were sleeping. We don’t know exactly how he made it here; all we know is that he likes to sit in high places, remain silent, and keep an eye on everybody.
The first time my son saw him, he was enchanted. I asked him to name him, and at first he chose Steve, but a few minutes later he changed it to Cheepee. I have to say, he is a great guest. He keeps to himself, doesn’t have to be entertained, doesn’t make messes–at least so far–, and hasn’t devoured anything in the fridge.
The greatest benefit is that Cheepee is helping me control the frequency and duration of my son’s “whining concerts” after his Lego ship blows up or after his iPad time runs out.
As soon as he starts warming up his mini Tenor voice, I tell him, “remember who is watching you…” and just like magic, the opera stops. If only Cheepee could join us all year round.
Out of all the American Christmas traditions, the Elf on the Shelf is my favorite by far. In fact, this is the first time I have met one, and even though I’m the one animating him, I really feel he is alive because of the innocence I see in my little guy’s eyes makes him real.
After seeing the effects of Cheepee’s power over my son, I thought about getting something extra from him, so I decided to give him another job–my home is not a welfare estate. He is now officially my Naughty Behavior Watcher throughout this Holiday Season. Poor Cheepee, he is going to wish he had never came to The Spadys home!
Because I want to be a better person this Christmas, not only for me, but for my family as well, I promised to stop nagging… well, a little. I am a cleanness and control freak–not the medicated type, but pretty close according to my husband.
So, on Monday morning, I looked at Cheepee–who was sitting on top of the refrigerator–before I started complaining to my son and husband about their messes on the kitchen counters and table.
His little sweet eyes made me feel like a lunatic as if he were saying, “Really Mama? Those bread crumbs are not even visible to the human eye! Lighten up woman!“
Later that day, Cheepee’s power proved that it had expanded even beyond the limits of our home. I was driving to work when, out of the blue, a pickup truck cut me off. I sped away to pass him, and when I was ready to open the window and flip the driver off, just like magic, the little elf’s face popped into my head and said to me, “Didn’t you cut off a granny earlier when taking the Interstate because she was going to slowly?” And not to mention his power over my diet. I look at him and I feel I am looking at my mother!
So far, things continue to go great with Cheepee. He finds a way to jump from the fire place mantle to the kitchen cabinets surprising my son every morning. He is doing his chores and listening as well as he can, so Cheepee doesn’t rat him out with Santa. Me, on the contrary, I’m starting to get annoyed. I never thought it would be so hard to see Christmas through my son’s eyes.
As a mother, I keep telling my son: be good, listen, put your toys away, wash your hands, walk faster, and on and on under the threat that Cheepee will tell Santa. I understand now, that he longs for Christmas morning and for unwrapping all his presents so much that he is willing to put up with the little nosy, red elf and his goofy hat.
To be honest, I already want to evict him! But it is Christmas, and the sacrifice to be a better person and to set a good example for my baby is worth it. I just hope to find some diamonds waiting for me under the tree, otherwise Cheepee and his whole gang of elves can move to the North Pole forever.
Thanks for reading and sharing.