Have you ever thought about what lessons these shows are teaching? They seem heartwarming, but they should really be classified as cautionary tales. Here is what I've learned from watching Christmas specials.
'Twas the week before Christmas when all through the house, stuff was getting done, but not by a mouse. The stockings were hung, by the chimney with care, they have to be filled, insert a swear word here.
I BOUGHT the cards. I ADDRESSED the cards. And there they sit. On my dining room table, alongside 10 lbs. of sugar, 10 lbs. of flour, 7 lbs. of powdered sugar, 7 lbs. of brown sugar and 2 lbs. of baking soda.
The parent who can come to me and sat they've never offered their child anything as a reward for good behavior can show me their Parent of the Year certificate and I'll kiss it. I'll kiss it in my Santa boxers and my ugly Christmas sweater.
I see you, Facebook friends, I see all of you. And I admire you! You are seriously amazing and I can tell it's fun for you and I can practically HEAR your kids giggling every morning. I got nothin' BUT love for you. But I'm not joining you. And that's OK.
Beyond the most obvious reason why I am questioning the wisdom of ever introducing this agent of Satan, I mean Santa, into my house, I can't help but wonder if we are really sending our kids the right message with things like the Elf.
I looked over at my daughter and wondered where she got her hearty constitution. If someone gave me a doll-man and told me it would watch my every move and then astrally project itself at night, I'd have chronic diarrhea and never sleep again.
Elf on the Shelf is creepy. The face, the disproportionate limbs, the mythology dating back to the mid-1990s -- it is all creepy, commercialized and secularized. Obviously, it is destined for greatness.
The truth is, my son isn't like other kids, and at the end of the day, I don't want him to be. So rock on, buddy; at least you won't live your life feeling like somebody's watching you, and I won't be scouring the Internet for new ideas.
"See, the Tooth Fairy has to have another job to support this tooth habit of hers. Wednesdays are the day that she works as a spy for the government. Because she's so small she can do lots of really important jobs that normal humans can't, and they pay her very well."
He's a creepy little informant with a creepy little smile that looks like he just peed in someone's Solo cup. This elf's sole job, his raison d'etre, is to report your kids' behavior to Santa. He's like a one-man magical surveillance team.