Thanks to my sister, Brandy (yes, read all the dripping sarcasm into that that you want), we are now the proud owners of an "Elf on the Shelf". If you don't know about this Christmas treasure, it's a little stuffed elf that sits in your house and "watches" the kids for Santa. Each night he reports to the North Pole and returns to "hide" in a new spot. The kids wake every morning to find his new hiding spot. Well, we've only had our guy (lovingly named "Jingle Bells" [first name: "Jingle", last name: "Bells"] by our estatic children. Okay. So, that's reason enough to do it. But, I digress...) We've only had "Jingle" THREE nights and I already almost forgot to move him. How am I going to get through YEARS of this "tradition"?
Oh well, guess it was about time to flick a few more coins into the kids' therapy funds anyway.