Morris

Our latest Christmas tradition is Elf on a Shelf. The kit comes with a book about Santa's elves who can come to your home during the Christmas season. The owners name the elf, sign him up to receive an adoption certificate, and place him on a shelf. Each night, the elf magically travels to the North Pole to report to Santa the naughty and nice things he has seen in the house that has adopted him. In the morning, he is in a new place in the house, and the household members have to find him. The main rule--as outlined in the book--is that no one in the house can touch the elf. If he is touched, he loses his magic and can no longer travel or move.

We named our elf "Morris." Why Morris? Who knows? First we determined he was a he. Other name choices: Elfie, Edgar, Bob, Frank, Tim, Lars. I suggested Ivan or Boris. Boris got a couple of votes, then Molly (or was it Rebecca?) said, "What about Morris?" Unanimous.

Morris came to our house on December 1. He has been in the Christmas tree, in the Christmas card holder, on the mantle in the office, in the leftover Halloween candy dish, in the Nativity, and twice in the Christmas village. Molly started leaving little notes next to him for him to give to Santa: "Who needs the postal service? We've got Morris!" she said. When Rebecca was sick earlier this week and couldn't go to school on the day that Father Christmas was supposed to leave candy in their shoes, she was heartbroken. Molly wrote a note to Santa asking him to bring a little something a little early, since Rebecca was going to miss the treats at school. Morris brought a Littlest Pet Shop toy when he came back from the North Pole on Tuesday morning.

Magic!