Shannon R. Brown

Dear Santa,

I thought I would take a minute to thank you for holding off on the whole “Elf on a Shelf” phenomenon until my kids were too old for it.

I know that you and your fellow holiday dignitaries rely heavily upon parental participation to complete your holiday related tasks. After all, employing enough workers to fill all those stockings, Easter baskets and even tooth pillows, has got to be cost prohibitive. And considering most parents want their children to be happy, it’s safe to assume that they would be willing participants in your holiday hijinks and tooth collection duties.

I wish that I could assure you that I would have been up to the task of assisting your elves during their December visits, but I must, ashamedly, admit that I simply wasn’t. Nor am I now. Nor, I doubt, will I ever be.

Seeing as you are the keeper of the Naughty and Nice list, I assume you know this already, but I’m not a very good helper. Just ask the Tooth Fairy. I honestly tried to help her collect my kids’ teeth and then leave them a small token of her appreciation. I did remember to do it a couple of times, but eventually my kids learned that if they wanted to get paid, they had to come downstairs, tooth in hand, and request compensation. Finally, out of frustration for my lack of Tooth Fairying skills, they gave up and decided to hang onto their own teeth. Perhaps they decided to deal with her directly? I’m not certain as I informed them to take their complaints about her helpers up with her. Not one of my better moments, but it got them out of my hair, so I call it a win.

Of course, the fact that you are privy to all our activities, you may have suffered some trepidation at the thought of the kind of influence I would have been on your elves. I’m all about new experiences, even if they sometimes involve questionable choices, so while I can’t guarantee your elves would have always partaken in purely innocent adventures, they would have returned to the North Pole with plenty of stories having thoroughly enjoyed themselves. And, for the most part, having suffered no life altering injuries. (Yes, I know you’ve watched us hang Barney in all sorts of precarious positions on our Christmas tree each year, but come on, it’s Barney. If anyone deserves to be given a hard time, it’s that purple dinosaur – annoyer of parents everywhere.)

No matter the reason you delayed dispatch of those creepy, child surveillors, I appreciate that I never had to deal with them. From what I hear Pinterest is an elf helper’s best friend, so I also thank you from the bottom of my heart for saving me from disappearing down that rabbit hole. Because of your wisdom in elf deployment timing I can sit in my chair, with my nightly cup of tea, and enjoy the Christmas lights hung throughout my home, free from the stress associated with the little red guy on the shelf.

I hope that you have an incredibly successful Christmas season and bring joy to lots and lots of children. I will do my best to help spread holiday cheer, as long as I remain free from the obligation of elf-helping.

I promise you I will try to remember to leave cookies out for you this year, and if at all possible, not eat them before you get here. Sorry about last year, Mr. Brown and I got the post candle light service munchies.

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year! Please give my regards to Mrs. Claus and, of course, Rudolph.

Sincerely,

One Grateful (and maybe a little lazy) Mom