I’d never heard of the Elf on a Shelf until this year. Maybe it’s because my kid is just getting to the age where he is into Santa. Or maybe it’s because it’s been so in my face, via social networking and television.

Initially, I thought the idea was super creepy. It’s bad enough that the kid thinks a fat man with a beard is watching every breath he takes. Wait. That’s The Police. Whatever. My point is that Santa can be a real creeper.

But, so many people were getting them and talking about them and posting pics of their elf and OMG MY KID IS THE ONLY ONE WITHOUT A DAMN ELF, that I caved.

Peer pressure. It’s a bitch.

I still felt kind of uneasy about the little guy, because I didn’t want to turn Christmas into something stressful for Luca and, knowing his personality, the Elf was liable to do exactly that. So, I decided to tweak the Elf’s mission a bit, to make it less freaky.

Luca’s been cutting out pictures from magazines, of toys he wants, and pasting them on construction paper. Busy work for the win! So, I sat the Elf up to look like he was checking out the toys L had cut and pasted. Like, old school cut and paste. None of this cyber bullshit.

I told my husband last night that I pulled the trigger on the Elf. In return, I received an enormous eye roll followed by some sort of man grunt. He has thought the whole thing was weird and creepy from the moment I told him about it.

Fast forward to this morning….

Me: OH MY GOD LUCA! The ELF! He’s HERE! And he is sitting on the table looking at your Christmas wish list so he can go back and tell Santa all the things you want!

Luca walks over to the table with a very concerned look on his face.

Me: And he brought a book with him, so you can get to know him better!

I open the book and start leafing through the pages.

And then, my son, my amazing, funny, pensive little boy slams the book shut and matter-of -factly says to me…

I don’t like that guy.

And walks away.

I’m not sure I remember the last time I laughed so hard. Even when I got the “I told you so” look from my husband.

A little while later I was putting shit in the toaster cooking breakfast for Luca when he walks up to me and says,”Mommy, I don’t want that guy in our house.”

Touche, little guy, touche.

No one likes a narc.