Elfie has been a valued, honorary member of the Cook family for quite some time now. I think he is technically only supposed to make an appearance around Christmas time to keep Santa posted on the naughty or niceness taking place, but from the moment Daddy brought him home we were hooked! For the next 2.5 years he was like one of us and quickly travelled around the house rarely spending more than a few hours in the same spot. Funny thing is, it was rare to actually see one of the boys holding Elfie and I often wondered how he got from spot to spot. Does Elfie come alive at night and cruise around the house? Ok, now that I said that I'm a little creeped out by the thought of it.
Anyway, I walked up stairs on Saturday afternoon to this sight. I was laughing hard inside but pulled together a serious voice and said "OH NO, WHAT HAPPENED TO ELFIE?!?" Everyone came running to see what the problem was and pretty soon we were all laughing about Elfie's unfortunate predicament. No harm done, but it is funny to think about which child decided to crush our little friend in the drawer and walk away.
Fast forward to naptime Sunday. Dad ran to Sam's while I was picking up after lunch. Jack appeared on the stairs with Elfie's head in one hand and body in the other. He announced in a very sad voice that Elfie was broken. Oh no, not a good weekend for our little Elfmeister.
When Dad arrived home I showed him the carnage thinking we'd bid farewell and give him a proper burial in the garbage. To my surprise, Dad placed him and his disfigured corpse on the shelf in the playroom. Guess he's not ready to part with Elfie quite yet.
Rest in peace creepy, headless Elfie, rest in peace.
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