Elf On The Shelf. A Rant.

Twas the month before Christmas and all through the land,
The Moms were askitter, elf's time was at hand.

The kids were expecting elf holiday sins,
And the boards were filled with applicable pins.
"Elfie Ideas," Christmas Fun!" they were named.
A pinning bonanza, no one could be blamed.

The plans had been hatched 'ere September was out,
But now there was lingering a shadow of doubt.
"Hmmm," thought one mom, "this elf is such trouble.
Admitting this, though, pops a holiday bubble.

My cupboards are stocked with the best box 'o wine
And I have one mere hour, JUST ONE, I call mine.
And precious time spent on this naughty elfin act,
Means into a holiday corner I'm backed.

Point 1: His feats have gotten complex,
And I'm only good at marketing decks,
Which means committing  to full elf devotion,
Will likely result in a "real job" demotion.

Thinking more brightly, how might this game work?
How do I solve for this Christmastime jerk?
'Cuz the flour and spices he strews on the table,
Seem that more work for Mom is part of this fable.

Might the kids help clean up if it's part of the game?
Or is that a fast way to famed holiday shame?
And to my three-year-old, how do I say,
'Spying is naughty, but this elf here's okay!'

But back to the math, I think it's way off.
It's an elf's equation, who wouldn't scoff?
One hour a night for 24 days,
Plus two cleaning up the mess that I made,
Equals a smug little smirk on a miniature face;
Elf's way of saying I can't win this race.

Win? Well I won't play this twisted yuletide game.
Despite pins and posts, elf, I think you're quite lame.

The movement starts here Elfie; I'm not alone!
The power is with every mom with a phone.
For every one sharing a right sprightly mess,
There are three cleaning up and poised to confess.

Elfie, go away, we don't need you and your 'fun,'
Rudolph and Frosty have already won.
Immobile they sit on the shelf, wall, or tree,
Smiling kindly back, asking nothing of me.

I don't think you're crucial to holiday joy.
In fact, I believe you're a tiny, big ploy
To stress Moms out more and make us compete
For the best Facebook post and inane elfin feat.

To that I say, 'No!' cuz I ain't got the time,
(And it really comes back to that fresh box-o-wine),
You've tricked us dear elf, I'll say it here first,
Although in some circles my name will be cursed.

Your name remains true, you jolly old elf.
With us at the helm you'll still be on your shelf,
But that shelf will be dark, undusted, and bare,
Forgotten in the garage, not well will you fare.

Your tradition was fleeting, turns out, just a fad.
You may have survived if you weren't so bad.
The morale of this and similar rants,
Is steal Mommy's time and you don't have a chance."