I draw the line at donning any gay apparel...

We've added a new holiday tradition to the Tony C household, and I must admit I've gotten into it...just a little bit.

Some of you may be familiar with Elf on the Shelf. Until this year, I was not. Here's how the racket works according to the company's propaganda:

Every day from Thanksgiving until Christmas Eve, each family's scout elf watches over the children and then at night, once everyone goes to bed, the elf flies back to the North Pole to report back to Santa about what activities, good and bad, took place throughout the day. Before the family wakes up each morning, the scout elf flies back from the North Pole and hides. By hiding in a new spot each morning around the house, the scout elf and the family play an on-going game of hide and seek. The Elf on the Shelf explains that elves get their magic by being named. In the back of each book, families have an opportunity to write their elf's name and the date that they adopted it. Once the elf is named, the scout elf receives its special Christmas magic which allows it to fly to and from the North Pole. However, the magic might go if touched, so the rule for The Elf on the Shelf states: "There's only one rule that you have to follow so I will come back and be here tomorrow: Please do not touch me. My magic might go, and Santa won't hear all I've seen or I know." Although families aren't supposed to touch their scout elf, they can talk to it and tell it all their Christmas wishes so it can report back to Santa accurately.

So Mrs. Tony C plopped down the cash for the book and elf, read the story to the 4-year old, and then gracefully bowed out of the picture leaving yours truly to do 'the fun stuff.'  First order of business, giving the mischievous little snitch a name...

Now, I've previously documented my apparent ineptness at naming inanimate objects (remember Joe Pony?), so when pressed by my beloved Crazy Tomato to help her think of a name, the best I could beget was...Blue.

Crazy Tomato: Blue?

Tony C: Blue the Elf. He has blue eyes...

Mrs. Tony C: (mocking eye roll) Geeezzz

Crazy T: I like it daddy! His name is Blue the Elf!

Mrs. Tony C: Blue?! Seriously? Blue the Elf?

Crazy T: I want it to be Blue mommy. Put it in the book!

There's a tremendous amount of responsibility that accompanies the power of influence I wield at my home. The burden at times is absolutely crushing...ahem...but I love my girls and take it very seriously.

So then began the routine of placing Blue in a new spot and situation each night after my own little fruit-nicknamed elf went to sleep. Why did this ultimately fall to you Tony C? That is a wonderful question my astute readers.

Another household custom not tied to the seasons in general is bedtime at the Tony C estate. The ritual goes like this...the Crazy Tomato will not go to sleep in her bed without the accompaniment of one Mrs. Tony C...every single, stinking night! Also falling asleep in these accommodating circumstances would be one Mrs. Tony C...every single, stinking night!

I might be harnessing a few ill feelings about this situation, and in the spirit of the season, I sincerely apologize for my pithiness.

I said pith-i-ness! Come on guys! You know I don't use such language! This is a family show!

Back to the elf. So each night, I look for creative places and circumstances to place Blue and bring joy and a chuckle to my Crazy Tomato the next morning. I already know what you're thinking...you can come up with creative circumstances to build a continuing story around a toy doll, but you can't come up with a better name than Blue the Elf?

Google my friends. I ain't blazing a new trail here you know.

Can't wait to paint her nose red tonight and pin it on the fairy. I might even try to get away with a two-for-one...I'm still feeling a little bitter.