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Dad v. The Elf

Posted by on December 6, 2012

Clyde is watching you…probably in the shower too.

It’s Christmas time again, which means our elf, Clyde Finnegan has come down from the North Pole in order to scare the crap out of the Boy in an attempt to make sure he continues on the straight and narrow in the month of December.

When I was first introduced to Clyde, I didn’t much care for him.  It was like this annoyingly little pointy-eared intruder had burst into my house to tell me that I simply wasn’t doing enough to celebrate Christmas.  That I was, in point of fact, half-assing the holiday if I wasn’t using Santa’s newest little upstart to create lasting memories.

I wanted to punch him in his tiny little nose.

Seriously, who was he to denigrate our years of holiday cheer?

What does Santa need with another pair of eyes on us anyway?  Kids know that Santa is watching…he’s knows who’s been naughty and…well, you get it.  Why the extra diminutive polar muscle?

You never know where those creepy eyes are going to show up next.

But the Boy took to him right off the bat.  He wakes up every morning with a singular mission to find out where that crazy little elf has gone.

And the damned guy is really sneaky.

He shows up all over the place, doing all sorts of weird things.  Sure they seem all innocent…if you’re on the Nice list…which I’m pretty sure I haven’t been on since the age of thirteen.

The first two years with him weren’t that bad.  The kids loved it.  They stayed in line.  He stayed out of our booze and I never once caught him checking out the Cheerleader while she was changing.

Woah! Clyde, that is entirely NOT in the spirit of the season!

But this year…I think the dude’s gotten a wee bit too comfortable.

He’s doing lewd poses…right in front of the pictures of Santa.

I’m really at a loss for words.  It makes me wonder what kind of Arctic Prison Release Program that Santa is pulling these guys out of…

Apparently, elves crap M&M’s…who knew?  But I no longer want any on my cookies, that’s for sure.

I am seriously nervous about having the guy wondering around my house alone in the middle of the night.  It’s like having a miniature teenager on speed let loose in the living room.  Who knows what he’s been watching on our TV…I dread the cable bill…because I have a sick feeling that there will be a pay per view order of “Elves under 500 Gone Wild.”

It doesn’t matter what I say…he’s going to blame that on me..and I’m going to get really weird looks from the Cheerleader.  It’s unavoidable.

Getting into the booze? Now, we’re going to have issues.

And, oh yeah…this year, “young” Clyde Finnegan has grown a taste for the grape.

He’s eating all the cookies and he brought along his friend, Boris the Plaid Moose.

He said that Boris gave him a lift down from the North Pole…but the other night, I’m pretty sure that he was into the sauce pretty good and riding the poor plaid beast around the house.

I don’t know if “Drunken Moose Driving” is a felony up at the Pole, but it’s going to be one from now on in our house.  He almost knocked down the tree.

Who do you report a wayward elf too?  He’s supposed to be reporting back to Santa…and I know what that look he keeps giving me means…I better watch what I do and say or it’s going to be another year on the naughty list for me.

And I’ve been good this year!  I swear!

“It puts the lotion on it’s skin, Barbie. Or it gets the Nog again.”

And the Boy and the Goob don’t believe a word of anything I say about him.

I’m just worried about the family…I think Clyde is bad news.  I think he’s been drinking too much and “playing in the snow” if you know what I mean.

Who knows what he’ll do next?

One Response to Dad v. The Elf

  1. Jana McConnell

    I snorted eggnog out my nose with that last picture, hysterical!

    [WORDPRESS HASHCASH] The poster sent us ‘0 which is not a hashcash value.

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