“So, I was planning on celebrating Christmas here,” Bobby said.“With you.”
See?This is what I mean when I say Bobby is perfect.
“With ALL OF US!”Millie announced.
And Keme, because he’s a teenage boy, chose that moment to grab my wrist and try to stab a butter knife through the back of my hand.
I was still fighting for my life—or at least for my hand—when Bobby, returning his attention to the snowflakes, said, “You know what we should do?We should FaceTime our parents.”
2
From my observation post in the hall, I said, “I thought this was for little kids.”
Millie, wild-eyed, threw open a closet door.She turned toward Keme, who was rifling through the—ick—commode, and shouted, “Closet is clear!”
“Nothing!”he shouted back, slamming a drawer shut.
“Be careful,” I said, “that’s an antique—”
“Billiard room!”Millie called over me.
And Keme’s answering shout had an almost military crack to it: “On it!”
Together, they sprinted for the billiard room.A moment later, I heard a crash.
“Your point being?”Fox asked dryly.
“Did they get this excited about Elf on the Shelf last year?”Bobby asked.“Why do I not remember this?”
“Probably because you were moping and doing all that tremendously vigorous exercise and trying to pretend you didn’t have feelings,” Fox said.
Bobby isn’t the type to give dirty looks, but he didn’t sound very grateful when he said, “Thank you, Fox.”
“You’re welcome.”
“We didn’t do Elf on the Shelf last year,” I said.“Last year, they set up all of Vivienne’s decorations, but the rest of us were kind of busy—”
“Pining?”Fox said.
“Don’t you have art to do?”
“I am doing it,” Fox said haughtily.“Everything I do is art.”
From the billiard room came a way too aggressive grunt from Keme—he was undoubtedly lifting something heavy, probably for Millie’s benefit—and then, seconds later, a tremendous thud.
“They’re going to knock this house down,” I muttered.
“Do they get a prize or something?”Bobby asked.
“Not everyone is motivated in life by filthy lucre,” Fox said.
“Five minutes ago,” I said, “you were doing that Christmas scratcher and saying, ‘Titi needs a new pair of shoes.’”To Bobby, I said, “There’s no prize.In fact, it’s kind of the opposite of a prize.”
“What does that mean?”Bobby asked.“Does the loser have a consequence?”
“No, that’s what’s so confusing about this whole thing.There’s no game with Elf on the Shelf.There’s no winning and losing.They’re not supposed to touch the elf at all, actually.The fun is that every night, the elf moves somewhere else in the house, and the next morning, the kid—emphasis onkid—gets to find them.”Glass shattered.“Usually it’s not so destructive.”
“Wait, so what’s the point?This elf just moves around the house, and the kids try to find him?”
