My father in law has a “thing”, I suppose you can say, about nicknames for his grandsons. When Davey was born, he nicknamed him Jasper. When Henry was born he nicknamed him Higgins. Now, I know where Higgins comes from…My Fair Lady, Professor Henry Higgins. Jasper? Not quite so sure.
So, when Davey became old enough to start speaking, he referred to himself as Jasper when around his Guh Guh (my father-in-law). It’s endearing for Davey and truthfully I enjoy it. When my sister-in-law purchased an Elf on the Shelf for Davey years ago, we needed a name for the Elf and Davey immediately jumped on the name Jasper.
With the onset of the holiday season and my decorating, Jasper was pulled out of storage and found his way onto the top of our Christmas tree. Last night, when the boys got back home from church, I pointed Jasper out and explained his importance. I suppose since Davey is older, he grasps the concept and I now find myself falling prey to the whole “Elf on the Shelf” ideas for this Christmas season.
When putting the boys to bed last night, I read the story about the Elf on the Shelf, substituting in Jasper’s name where relevant. Davey became extremely excited. He wanted to know if Jasper would really magically fly away and come back in the morning. I told him, “of course,” and that Jasper’s sole responsibility is to tell Santa all about how well he’s behaved.
This morning when Davey awoke, he darted off to the bathroom and while on his way excitedly asked if Jasper was in a different place. My first thought was, “oh crap! I was supposed to move Jasper! Crap! Crap! Crap!” I told Davey that Jasper was in a new place and that he could find him AFTER he brushed his teeth and put on his clothes, thereby buying me some time to unimaginatively move Jasper.
Where did Jasper end up? On the elf tree in the kitchen. I know, very lackluster on my part, but I can already tell I will fail miserably at this. When the boys came downstairs, Davey immediately found Jasper, and heeding the words from the story, kept his hands behind his back, lest he be tempted to touch Jasper and force him to lose his magical abilities. As I made breakfast, both boys sat in the floor looking at Jasper on the elf tree. I asked what they were doing and Davey exclaimed, “seeing if we can watch some of his magic.”
After school today, Davey asked me if Jasper saw how nice he was to his classmates and if Jasper would tell Santa. Once again, I replied, “of course,” but secretly I’m already not liking Jasper. We’re roughly six weeks away from Christmas. That’s 42 days in which I will be required to remember to move Jasper each night when the boys go to bed. That’s 42 days that I’ll have to despise all of you creative moms with your cute Elf on the Shelf pictures and your ability to actually remember to do this. That’s 42 days of me constantly reassuring Davey that Jasper will not do him wrong. That’s 42 days of pure hell as I’m frantically trying to remember and come up with great places for Jasper.
I’m only one day into our Elf on the Shelf. One day, and I’m already despising the little flying pixie. Stay tuned to see if I can manage to keep up the fiasco.