The Damn Elf


I forget to move the elf, her name is Lucy by the way.  The girls will ask for days why she hasn’t moved. I tell them because Lucy has a great view of their actions or because she’s tired from all her trips to Santa. But I think the girls know it’s because I forgot.  Last night I remembered to move her at 2am.  I thought I should chronicle the places she goes a bit more. She’s a good maker of time and good insight into little corners of our home.

Right now I’m getting a kick out of G, who at 2.5 years old still has difficulty with words.  She wakes up looking for Lucy and shouting at the top of her lungs in a “toddler accent”: “Loooosy, Oh Loooooosy waaare ah youuuuuu?”  She sounds exactly like Ricky.

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