It's his job. He's the night owl. I've texted him from bed a few times: "move toby.""T - O - B- Y did not move last night, Daddy!" [spelling will serve us at least 2 more years, right?]
But I can't be fabulous every night.
"Well did they notice, yet?"
"No. They're focused on the Advent chocolate of the day."
"Well just tell them that he found a comfy spot and didn't want to leave it."You mean you found a comfy spot on the couch last night and slacked off on the job.
They still haven't mentioned Toby. I guess our Elf is not as exciting as other elves, so they are not always running down the stairs in anticipatory glee to find him. I'm still getting used to being dishonest to my children.
Here's what I'd rather say when we flub on Toby's activities:
1. Toby is lazy, like your father.
2. Toby didn't visit Santa last night because he had nothing new to report. Same sh**, different day.
3. Toby is in a cookie coma.
4. Toby learned how to break the rules, from watching you awful, lawless children.
5. You kids were so effin naughty Toby couldn't even bring himself to tell Santa!
6. Toby was so exhausted from the last report he had no energy to return. Santa will certainly send the evil Reindeer to retrieve him tonight. FOR GOOD.
Which leaves open the next string of possibilities when Toby disappears:
7. Toby's shacking up with the Elf next door.
8. Toby died because you ate all his cookies.
9. ALL the Elves have died, because the children of the world no longer play with toys, in favor of video games.
And when we eventually lose Toby, which is bound to happen in my house:
10. Last year Christmas was such a cluster f**k Toby couldn't find his way back!
I'm just being honest with you children. You can thank me later.