The Bearded Iris

A Recalcitrant Wife and Mother Tells All

Tag: The Elf on the Shelf (page 1 of 2)

Portrait of a Deviant Elf

Dobbie is back! He’s my family’s Elf on the Shelf and he is pretty popular around these parts.

If you’re just joining us, you can catch up on all of Dobbie’s most memorable adventures from the last few years HERE.

I have to admit, I’m enjoying him now more than ever… probably because every time Dobbie makes my kids smile or laugh, it eases my guilt for being such a Halloween slacker this year.

Also, this year, for the first time, Bucket Head has started communicating with Dobbie. Continue reading

Look what’s under the mistletoe!

Dobbie adjusts his mistletoe belt buckle by The Bearded Iris

Dobbie ain’t no dummy.

Hey, all you Christmas decorating pros, is real mistletoe always so flimsy and delicate? Geez Louise, I lost about half the leaves fashioning that belt buckle for Mr. Horny Pants up there.

Confession: this is actually the first year I’ve ever bought real mistletoe. Is that crazy? I’ve always wanted some, but I’ve never really liked the plastic mistletoe I see in most stores. So when I saw some little baggies of real mistletoe for $1 each at the local Christmas Tree Farm last weekend, I snapped up a few bags and brought them home with us.

Did you know that real mistletoe is a parasitic plant that grows at the top of trees? The owner of the tree farm told me that there’s a gal in his neighborhood who shoots the mistletoe down with a rifle and then shows up in her head-to-toe camouflage to sell him big fresh clumps of it.

Welcome to North Georgia, y’all.

Anyway, what few hearty sprigs remained intact while I was making my bouquet are hanging in my foyer from the pendant light. So if you plan on stopping by anytime this holiday season, just go ahead and pucker up, Buttercup.

live mistletoe in the foyer by the bearded iris

How about you? Are you a mistletoe veteran or virgin? Got any tips or stories about mistletoe to share? Dish it up!

Yours truly,
Leslie

 

 

The Return of Dobbie, The Inappropriate Elf on the Shelf

Today marks the one year anniversary of Dobbie’s Big Debut. If you’re just joining us, Dobbie is my family’s Elf on the Shelf, and he’s a little, uh…mischievous, you might say.

He was pretty popular around the blogosphere last year for his lewd and lascivious antics. He even finished in second place as one of the Top 11 Inappropriate Elves over at Baby Rabies’ Inappropriate Elf Contest for that time he wrote his name in the snow.

Dobbie writes his name in the snow by The Bearded Iris #InappropriateElf

Ah, good times.

Pretty ironic that he would become so popular because I never even wanted that little so’mbitch.

He was an ambush gift from my mom to my kids and I just knew he was going to be trouble. Like I needed to add one more labor-intensive holiday tradition to my already overflowing plate of Christmas duties.

But I begrudgingly let Grandma be the hero and give the kids the one toy they’d been so desperately coveting.

And long story short, we all fell in love with him.

Even my beloved kitty Gracie (RIP) enjoyed his company. These shots were taken last year and were part of my story about having to improve upon my husband’s lame attempts at Elfing. (Bless his heart.) That’s one of my all-time favorite posts, by the way. (And the photo below is the one I’m entering in this year’s Inappropriate Elf Contest at Baby Rabies.)

Dobbie plays Scat Scrabble #InappropriateElf by The Bearded Iris

Dobbie plays Scat Scrabble2 #InappropriateElf by The Bearded Iris

I sure do miss that sweet cat. She was the best. {Sigh}

This year, Dobbie the Elf arrived on Saturday, December 1st.

I clipped his little hands to one of the blades of the ceiling fan, turned the fan on low, and went to bed.

I would give anything to have a video of my kids’ reaction when they discovered him.

They were watching TV in the family room that Saturday morning, and it wasn’t until my husband said, “Hey, why is the ceiling fan on?” that they looked up and noticed Dobbie spinning around and around, with his little felt legs splayed out behind him like he was holding on for dear life.

Believe me when I say my kids went absolutely apeshit. “IT’S DOBBIE!!! HE’S BACK!!! HE’S ON THE CEEE-WING FAN!” (sic) shouted Bucket Head.

And that, my friends, is what this Elf thing is all about.

It’s not about comparing yourself to other mothers. It’s not about having to “remember to move the fucking elf.” It’s not about rules or obligations or judgement.

It’s about bringing joy to your kids. 

And let me tell you something about my kids: the horse apple didn’t fall far from the horse, if you know what I mean.

Elf on the Shelf Dobbie on the crapper by The Bearded Iris #InappropriateElf

Toilet humor—works every time.

And if you can make your husband laugh along the way with little surprises like this?

The Elf on the Shelf Dobbie has a mouth like a trucker by The Bearded Iris #InappropriateElf

Even better.

Oh easy there, Mother Superior. My kids never saw that. By the time they woke up that day, the egg carton was closed, and the elf was in a much more family-friendly position…

Dobbie The Inappropriate Elf on the Shelf licking a large turgid candy cane by The Bearded Iris

…licking an enormous, turgid candy cane.

Because there’s nothing inappropriate about that, right?

May your holiday season be filled with joy, laughter, and plenty of minty freshness.

Yours truly,
Leslie

PS – Please follow me on Pinterest for more Elf fun and Christmas humor!

Follow Me on Pinterest

 

Your Daily Dobbie

Three words, Inappropriate Elfers:

DRY. ERASE. MARKER. 

But like a potato chip dipped in chocolate and chased with a body shot of tequila, why stop at one?

That’s right, party people. Dobbie did the whole motherfuckin’ wall. BOO-yah!

No big mystery whose baby picture this one is:

The boobs. They give me away every time.

On three, let’s get out there and do some easily reversible property destruction.

One.

Two.

Oh wait, vote for Dobbie, the infamous urinographer. He’s entry #54 at Baby Rabies’ Inappropriate Elf contest. One vote per day until the 20th.

 

 

 

 

Where was I? Oh yeah…

THREE.

GO! Go forth and gently deface stuff. It’s fun. And it makes me forget how much shit I really should be doing.

Inappropriate and loving it,

-Iris

© Copyright 2011, The Bearded Iris. All rights reserved. Don’t make my Elf get all up in yo’ bidness. He’s got a dark side.

The Elf on the Marriage Counselor’s Shelf

My husband and I are not seeing eye to eye on this whole Elf on the Shelf business.

No big surprise. He and I are polar opposites, of course. That’s how nature works. It’s all about propagating the species and the best way to do that is to mix up the gene pool.

So when I snuck downstairs a few nights ago to move Dobbie, I was not the least bit shocked to find that my husband had already dismantled this “killer” vignette:

…and set up his own low-key scenario for the kids to find the following morning:

Oh how interesting. Elf on a Media Cabinet. {Yawn}

Oh no. This will not do, I said to myself. This is MY dance space.

I knew Martha next door was probably making her Elf do powdered sugar snow angels on her kitchen floor that very moment. There was no way in hell I would let my kids bear the shame of having to tell the other kids at the bus stop that their Elf just sat on a piece of furniture all night! BOR-RING.

So I grabbed a few simple props and voilá:

Instant drama. See how easy that is? Anyone can do it! Well, anyone but my husband. And not just because the cat avoids him like the plague.

(WARNING: Even without the demonic cat in the background, this scene may be a bit too macabre for many young children. My kids were fine with it. They watch a lot of Sponge Bob.)

Later that day after the kids were in bed, my husband beat me to the punch AGAIN and moved Dobbie for the night. He really outdid himself and moved the Elf to a totally different room. WOW – he so crazy!

What? You moved Dobbie to a different room? HI-LARIOUS!!!

FAIL. Poor Dobbie looks sad and alone, not impish and merry! You know who else found his Elf like that one cold December morning? Jeffrey Dahmer, that’s who.

Luckily I arrived in the nick of time. “Step away from the Elf, husband. This is not a job for amateurs.”

Again, with just a few additional props, Iris and her trusty feline sidekick were able to save the day and enjoy a good chuckle at the same time:

It’s the little things.

You’re pretty impressed by my cat right now aren’t you? Yes, Scat Scrabble appeals to multiple ages and species, let me tell you. All three kids thought it was awesome. The husband? Not so much. He’s just grateful I didn’t throw in one of my signature fake turds for extra oomph. (I actually did, but the cat is lying down right on top of it, honest to God. Bet she thought it was a little brown mouse. Damn.)

Luckily for our marriage, my husband catches on pretty quickly. Last night he just handed me the Elf (not a euphemism) and said, “I know you’ll just correct whatever I do, so here; have at it.” (Also, not a euphemism.) Is he well-trained, or what?!

In hindsight, I probably shouldn’t have defiled the collectible Rockwell Christmas Village that he had spent hours setting up just so earlier that day…

My husband was not amused. The kids sure liked it though!

Hey, just trying to keep the “Christ! Why do I even bother?” in Christmas. It’s a gift.

Oh stop it. You know my Mama dropped me on my head as an infant. But guess what! There are more of us out there! I found an entire subculture of other twisted Elfers. Wanna see? Then head on over to Baby Rabies and check out the fun contest she’s doing:

There are some hilarious entries! I’m submitting my Snow-Writing Dobbie picture. You’ll have the chance to vote for your favorite entries beginning on December 12th. Don’t worry, I’ll beg remind you.

UPDATE: Please visit the Inappropriate Elf Contest and click “Like” on #54 (“Dobbie writes his name in the snow”). Voting runs until Tuesday December 20th and the top three will be in the running to win an iPad 2. You can vote once a day, and you don’t need to register to vote! Can I get an AMEN?! 

So wrong, but so right,

-Iris

The Golden Rule of Gossip

Pssst.

(Slyly turning my head both ways to make sure nobody will overhear.)

Can you keep a secret? Meet me In the Powder Room. My weekly column is all about gossip!

Just don’t tell anyone, okay?

See you over there!

-Iris

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