The “Elf on the Shelf”, named Flē, no longer “works” at our house. His days of spying on us are over. According to the “legend” and a children’s book from 2005, one of Santa’s elves will come to your home, get named by you, and will report back to Santa on how naughty or nice you’ve been. Flē was about 7 inches tall, skinny, with eyes that were always looking sideways.
We named our elf “Flē,” because it’s “elf” spelled backwards. So clever! Each night, Flē, came up with places to hide in our house and did silly things. We found him drinking egg nog in the fridge,and he hid in our shoes sometimes.
Apparently, Flē was living too close to the edge — of the shelf. He was found mauled by our dog, Ivey. His left arm was chewed off at the elbow and his insides spilled out onto the rug. It was sad, a but fitting ending. His name was FLEE, and he needed to do just that.
HA HA! I love this, Haley! Poor Fle. Our elf was named Willie. He was a stinker who painted mustaches while kiddos were sleeping!