We call him Elfee

A week or so ago, Lilly was being particularly devilish. In a moment of desperation, I mumbled something about an elf watching her behavior and reporting back to Santa. I didn't realize that my three-year-old would interpret this into visions of a horrific evil troll hiding in our home, watching her every move. She couldn't be left alone that night without bursting into tears and yelling something about elves being everywhere.

 Mom of the year, amirite?

The next day, after realizing my mistake, I ran to Target, er, the North Pole and asked an elf to come hang out at our place. I figured I had to show Lilly that Santa's little helpers aren't as scary as Mommy made them seem. They're jolly! They're kooky! They're tattle-tales!

We've been having a ton of fun with this little guy. He gets into all kinds of zany situations. Every morning, Lilly jumps out of bed and runs to find him. Then I hear her yell something along the lines of: Mommy! Look at this guy! He gets everywhere! How does that crazy elf do that?

Sometimes he does innocent things. He gets into Lilly's dress-up clothes and wears her tutus. He drinks her chocolate milk. He leaves her notes. You know, your normal, everyday elf behavior.

But sometimes, well... he goes a little insane. You know what they say, all work and no play... something, something.

He's a big fan of "helping" Lilly fall asleep. A little Benadryl never hurt anybody.

Oh, but this... this was too much. Elfee definitely crossed the line with this one. Kidnapping/serial killing will seriously put you on the naughty list.

I caught Buffalo Bill Elfee playing with Barbie, Silence of the Lambs style. (Totally inappropriate, right? I decided to enter this guy into Baby Rabies 2nd Annual Inappropriate Elf contest.)

It rubs the lotion on its skin or else it gets the hose again.

Merry Christmas!