Looks like the dusting elves missed my house. Slackers.
Some call it fibbing, lying, or perhaps maybe prepping your child for a lifetime of disappointment and depression.
I call it magic.
The little Elf, named Elfy (very, VERY original) is the newest member of our family and it has been wonderful. I cannot tell you how delightful it is to watch Diva’s eyes sparkle when he’s moved to a different location, or how she has precious conversations with him after school. I love the way she she is so extremely careful NEVER to touch him and asks me if I can hold him for her so she can get a closer look. She asks him silly questions and waves to him from the other room. It’s priceless I tell ya. Absolutely priceless.
I want my kids to believe in magic. They’ll grow out of it soon enough and I’ll be darned if I ever deprive them of that childhood rite of passage.
Munchkin is aware of Mr. Elfy but it’s more of a seehowmuchIcanannoymysisterbypretendingtotouchElfy kinda thing. Her magic will come next year no doubt. I can’t wait.
Bonus? Diva has been an absolute angel. But that’s only the icing on the cake.
Click here if you don’t know what the crap I’m talking about.