The REAL reason our Elf on the Shelf’s butt is fried…

If you read about Jack’s #redsolocup, candy cane bash, you might believe me to be an elf abuser. Again, I know what it looks like but I’m innocent. I promise. I hope that my story serves as a warning to all of you Elf on the Shelf lovers and stops other over-achieving Elf on the Shelf owners.

Ouch!! Poor, poor Jack!

Last year, I was much more noble as an Elf on the Shelf owner. Jack was moved daily and showed up in the most clever of spots. Every day I dug deep into my creative little brain to come up with those sneaky hide-outs. Being proud and probably a bit cocky, I thought it would be cute to have Jack hide on top of our family room ceiling fan.

That night we started our normal, evening routine…homework, make supper, eat, baths, reading, etc… In the middle of this chaos, I would notice a slight burning smell. It wasn’t bad and eventually would go away. This smell wasn’t all that unusually either. Our family room used to have a wood burning stove in it and from time to time I will notice a smokey smell. Most of the time I think I’m imagining it but it also happens upstairs around the closet, which used to be the chimney. {It’s probably just a ghost living in The Magic FarmHouse}.

The slight concern that I did have melted away once the boys were in bed and the house was quiet. When I came back downstairs, my hubs asked if I had noticed smelling smoke. I wasn’t imagining it. We had both been smelling it off and on throughout the night. At this point it was getting pretty potent and seemed to be worse when the furnace was running. I quietly and calmly began freaking out and made him go down to the dungeon to check out the furnace…I was confident the smell was connected. In the meantime I began combing the house. There was absolutely no smell in the basement (I double checked). We came to the conclusion that whatever was producing the smell was on the main floor. Well, he came to that conclusion and I fought him on it as he yelled at me to take some meds.

As we were yelling at one another my six-foot, three-inch husband noticed a little red guy sitting on top of a ceiling fan-light with his butt glowing as red as rudolph’s nose….except that Jack’s butt was billowing with smoke.

Yes, my creative little plan caused Jack to fall off the ceiling fan, onto one of the lights where he sat (for who knows how long) burning while the lights were turned on and cooling when the lights turned off.  Our return air vent just happens to be in the family room so whenever the furnance was running it was sucking the smoke and blowing it around.

Mystery solved.

Rather than tell you the truth, I concocted that elaborate story about putting him in the hot seat. Now the party he threw…that was the truth the whole truth and nothing but the truth. Moral of the story? Do not hide your Elf on the Shelf on top of a ceiling fan.

 

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