Jack.

Our elf is Jack.

He serves no purpose. He works for like a day and then he is just an ugly little Christmas decoration among all of my cute Christmas stuff.

Whatever.

Anyway, the other morning we got up and Jack hadn't moved.

Fabulous.

The children noticed. I was all, "Caroline, you went to bed too late last night. Jack didn't have time to fly back to the North Pole so he just stayed in that old spot."

She agreed and we went about our morning.

Ryan comes home.

"Umm. Jack didn't move AND he is flopped over." He goes to fix him to sit straight and the girls scream... "NO!! YOU CAN'T TOUCH HIM!!"

The girls began to explain why he hadn't moved.

"Yeah, but he looks like there is something wrong," he said. In all seriousness, he looked at the girls and said, "Maybe he's dead. He looks dead. Maybe THAT'S why he didn't fly back."

Way to work together as a team, Ryan. Thank you. It's ok to help a sista out every once in a while... ass.

Also, don't fuss when your children will need therapy in a few years and it will all go back to the day you told them there Elf may be dead.

Thanks for making me look like mother of the year.