It had been a quiet Thanksgiving this year, but a good one all the same. Dinner at my parents' house, dessert at my cousin's, and an uneventful drive home afterward. I watched one of the streamed episodes of Mystery Science Theater 3000 off the Apple TV, then went to bed.
I thought I'd turned off my alarm before going to bed. In fact, I was sure I had the night before. Still it blared to life and startled me awake. I reached over to slap at it when it went off this morning, turned on the lamp, and...
"GAHH!! YOU AGAIN?!"
"Hey dude, how ya been?" he squeaked. "It's good to see you, too!" Clavicus Hrothgar, a.k.a. Cinnamon, the same pain-in-the-butt elven sprite who had invaded my house during the holiday season last year, taking on the troubling appearance of one of those insipid "Elf on the Shelf" figures. I'd forgotten about that awful helium-on-helium voice of his.
"I thought you were dead," I said, unconcerned that my disappointment was all too evident. The last I had seen of him was just a scrap of red felt on my front step on Christmas morning after he had escaped being nearly tortured to death. "How did you escape your enemies from the Guild last year?"
"Oh, that?" He laughed, waving it off. "That's all...yeah, everything's...you know, heh heh heh, don't worry about it. All in the past. We have more important things to discuss."
"We really don't," I said, turning off the lamp and rolling over.
"Oh, but I've got plans! And I think you're just the person to help me!" Then he paused. "But first, have you seen my hat anywhere?"
I had, actually. I'd found something that had looked all too much like his hat in my driveway weeks before. I had hoped it wasn't what I thought it was, but when I tried to light it on fire and nothing happened, I was concerned.
DAY 2
I had family over last night for some post-Thanksgiving good times and had the house back to its original state by the time I went to bed. I found this scene in the living room the following morning.
“What ARE these things?" he said from a scattering of Lego blocks. "They’re awesome!”Yes, I'll admit it: I have a chest in my house full of toys, in case any friends of mine bring their kids over.
“You’re an elf. And you’ve never seen Legos before.”
“Legos? HA! That’s a weird name.”
“Yeah, sure…Cinnamon. How did you even find those?”
“Um…remember that little kid that was here last night? And you got these out of that chest for him? And he was playing with them while that other little kid was running around everywhere? Yeah. He must have left them out.”
“No, actually, that little kid’s dad put them all away when they left. So….”
“Well, I don’t know what happened then. They got out somehow. I found them like this."
“Sure. Because Legos habitually throw themselves all over the house.”
He paused. “It would explain a lot, wouldn’t it?"
I unceremoniously tossed him into the other room and began picking up the blocks. Funny thing was, I didn't recognize all of the ones he had out. I only had a few small sets, and even though it's been years since they had been taken out of the chest -- until the night before, at least -- I knew what the sets were like. Maybe I just thought I did.
DAY 3
At least I didn't have to go outside to get the newspaper today. Cinnamon already had it spread out all over the kitchen, with sections on the table, the counter, and the floor. It looked like I was preparing to house-train a collection of birds.
"This!" he squeaks. "This whole Elf on the Shelf thing! This is what I was talking about! It's all about branding! Do you have any idea how much cash these chumps are raking in on this racket? I know that girl in the ad! She isn't anywhere as friendly as innocent as she looks here! We need to get in on this action!"
"Aren't you already a part of that?" I asked.
"I was," he said, sounding disgustingly pitiful. "Not anymore, though. After all that drama last year, with me almost being sliced into small pieces, which was really more than just a huge misunderstanding on their part, by the way, I had to sign away my likeness rights during negotiations with the Guild to get them off my back. But I made sure there was a contractual loophole that would allow me to still ride the wave of this fad. I don't need those other clowns. I want to start from scratch and brand MYSELF. I could be the Grand Emperor of Pinterest in less than a week."
He showed me this ad. "See that book? Kids love storybooks, right? And this time of year their parents will buy them practically anything! That's our gateway! That's where we start! Draw a few sketches, think up some rhymes, and boom! Done! How hard can it be? I could have it all done by dinner time!"
"I heard a 'we' in there."
"Oh heck yeah, I'll cut you in! I'll handle the creative, you set things up on the business end. Do you know anyone who can hook us up with a publisher? Anyone with industry contacts?"
"No," I answered quickly. "Sorry. Can't help you there."
"Shoot," he said. "That's all right, I guess. I can't believe getting a book published involves more than making a few phone calls. I'm sure I'll think of something. Why don't you make me some eggs now that you're finally out of bed?"
DAY 4
I feel slightly at peace after driving through the first heavy flakes of the approaching storm on my way home. I walk in the house to find one lamp on, with Cinnamon sitting beside a closely-guarded remote control.
"A Charlie Brown Chistmas, 50th anniversary," he says. "We're watching it. End of discussion."
I kick off my shoes and sit in the recliner on the other side of the table, taking the remote out of his reach. "You know what?" I say. "I'm perfectly fine with that."
DAY 5
"Check it," he says. "I found more! These are awesome!" He was sitting in an even larger pile of Legos. So many were scattered so far around the carpeting I was sure he had upended the toy chest and dumped out every piece I own. I was furious.
"Okay, A, there were no kids here last night for you to blame," I started. "And B, I'm not even sure there's even room for that many Legos in my toy chest. And C -- you are totally picking those up."
"Yeah, yeah, fine. No problemo. You have to go off to whatever 'school' is anyway, don't you? Don't worry your balding little head about it. I have everything under control."
After so many years as a teacher, I have a pretty strong sixth sense about when I'm being lied to.
DAY 6
I forgot my iPad at home this morning when I went to school. Bad idea, and not just because if left me without all of my terribly valuable spreadsheets.
"I've been thinking about branding ideas today," he said. "I figure once my book comes out, I'll have to be prepared for a lot of appearances and signings. That's what writers do, right? Plan for stuff like that? I've seen you sit for hours doing nothing but practicing your autograph. That's some impressive focus you have."
I felt my face turn red. "You what?! When did you...I never...I don't know what you're talking about."
"Hey, whatevs, it's all good. So what do you think of mine?" He held up the iPad to show me the screen. "I figure since you didn't need this today I might as well practice on a touch screen. That way we both aren't wasting reams of paper practicing autographs, am I right?"
"Shut up," I said, looking it over. "Who's Michelle?" I asked, cautiously. "A new friend of yours? You didn't invited anyone in last night, did you?"
He laughed out loud and my right ear began bleeding a little. "Oh no! I learned my lesson after last year. It's just some random name that came to me. Gotta be ready for everyone, right?"
DAY 7
I woke to a sound more startling than my alarm, something between laughter and a growing cry of distress.
"Stop, stop, really! It doesn't tickle now! This isn't fun anymore!"
A scream of pain broke through the morning darkness. I got out of bed and hurried to the living room, turning on lights along my way. I saw that wherever Cinnamon spends the night while I'm sleeping, he must not concern himself with hiding very well.
"Help!" he shrieked as the lights came on. My parents' dogs had found him. Shamus had Cinnamon pegged as the unwelcome guest he is, while Butch watched with semi-curiosity, as is his usual way.
I felt a moment of pride at the scene before finally calling Shamus away -- not for Cinnamon's sake really, but because Shamus has such a sensitive little tummy, and there's no telling what might happen with bits of elf in his system. I led the dogs into the kitchen and gave them each a well-earned treat instead. By the time I walked back into the living room, Cinnamon had crawled away to hide somewhere.
DAY 8
The house smelled amazing when I got home, but my heart raced into a panic when I realized there was a lit candle burning in the kitchen. Did I actually light a candle before going in to school and forgot about it? I'd never done that before. Seeing who sat beside it only made the situation worse.
"Could you please never again use matches in my home, ever?!" I yelled. "Unless you're curious about discovering how fireproof your stupid elf suit is?"
"You're failing to see the big picture," he replied, shaking his head in the most condescending manner. "See? I bought this today! It has my name right on the label! Plus 'sparkling,' which perfectly describes me! This is exactly the kind of branding I've been looking for!"
"I don't think the company had you in mind when they made that," I said.
He considered that for a moment. "Okay. Well, how about this then? We get them to put my face right on the label, instead of that pile of firewood-looking stuff, whatever that is! They could probably do that, right?"
"No," I said quickly. "I'm sure that would be impossible."
"Hmm, really? Oh well. It still smells nice. By the way, I had to use your credit card to pay for it. I hope that's cool. Plus I don't remember where I left it. I mean, I think I brought it back from the store, but I can't say that with 100% confidence. But you have a really colorful card, so I'm sure it will be easy for you to spot, especially if I dropped it on the ground somewhere.
I shook my head, blew out the candle, walked into the living room and collapsed face-first onto the sofa, just long enough to catch my breath. Then I got back up, walked into the office, and looked up the number of my credit card company.
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