Gnomes vs. Elves vs. My Sanity

For as long as I can remember, I've been kind of a spaz when it comes to my idiosyncrasies and other things that freak me out.  I can't touch anything if my fingers get pruny from water until they are un-pruny.  I can't eat my sandwich if there is lettuce or other stuff hanging out over the edges of the bun.  I scream and run like a little girl from moths and house centipedes.  The list really does go on and on.

I'm not sure how I got this way.  According to my mother, the only thing that struck terror in my heart when I was little was not snakes or spiders...it was garden gnomes.  This was discovered when my Nana bought two of them and placed them in her front flowerbed.  My mom said that she knew something was wrong when I stopped dead in my tracks as I was hauling ass into my Nana's house (as I usually did).  After she picked me up to carry me past those little suckers, I screamed and cried so much that she thought I was going to pass out.  This apparently happened at every home that had those creepy little creatures skanking around in their gardens.

Well, that fear has followed me into adulthood.  It's not as bad because all of my other irrational fears have taken away from the energy that I used to spend on gnomes. I'm still not fond of the beady little eyes that seem to follow me from under the ragged little hat, nor do I like the frozen little smirk they wear that seems to say, "I am wondering what your flesh tastes like."  I've seen far too many movies about gnomes that devour children and family pets to ever feel comfortable with having one in my yard.

Now that you know the back story, imagine my surprise (and horror) when on Christmas Eve, I unwrapped a snide little gnome at my mother's house.  She said she bought it as kind of a joke and she thought it wouldn't be "that bad" because it was dressed in a Penn State outfit. Yeah Mom, you can put lipstick on a rattlesnake but it's still going to bite you.  I politely thanked her and stuffed that thing into our present bag as fast as I possibly could.

After we got home, I had no idea what to do with it. I was planning on burning it selling it, but before I had a chance, my loving husband found a better use for it:

I'm pretty sure this is ground for divorce in some states.

Yes, that is a gnome in my baking cupboard.  I didn't even see it until I was closing the door, and I caught sight of those horrid little ice blue eyes staring at me.  I cracked the door and peeped inside, just to make sure, and there he was, just staring at me with that dumb look on his face.  That image will forever be burned into my mind.

So after reporting the horror I felt when I opened that door to my husband, this has now become Big Daddy's favorite game.  I will not touch the thing to move it, and he will not get rid of it.  The kids are obviously not going to give him up or toss him in the trash like I've ordered them to do since they have something that gives them power over me, so I guess I'm stuck with it until Big Daddy gets bored.  I don't see that happening any time soon since Mr. Terrifying has recently made appearances in my snack pantry and my behind-the-door shoe rack.  The minute he appears somewhere that I can douse him with lighter fluid and toss a match, he is a goner.

Not half as nice as if he would have surprised me with new shoes.

After experiencing the paralyzing fear that I feel every time this little creature pops up, I can't wait for it to that moment. It also brought me to a realization that I may have made a mistake when caving into Tink's insistence that we start a new Christmas tradition in our household:

A generic Elf On the Shelf set or my worst nightmare come true?

Tink INSISTED that we get an Elf on the Shelf set for our house for next Christmas. For those of you that are not familiar, the whole concept of this set is that there is an elf that comes to your house 12 days before Christmas to keep an eye on your kids for Santa. How does the elf do this? He moves around the freaking house to different places AT NIGHT, AFTER EVERYONE HAS GONE TO BED.

Really??  How did I not realize that this thing was the epitome of evil when I let her talk me into buying it?  Would this not scar my kids for life?  There's a little, point-eared Hell raiser (that looks eerily like a skinny gnome) that sneaks into your house to spy on you, and we welcomed him with open arms!  Not only does he spy on you, he slinks around at night causing all kinds of ruckus, and then stands frozen like a statue during the day.  If I was Tink's age, I would be freaking out about that thing going through my underwear drawer and violating my Barbies.  And I WILLINGLY let this thing come into my home.  I feel violated.

It's not here yet but I know any day, the UPS man will show up with a big brown box full of creepy.  At least the devil elf gets stuffed into the attic until the holidays.  If I didn't think they would contemplate recipes that use the flesh of my children, Mr. Gnome would be joining him in seasonal slumber.

And if my husband doesn't knock it off with his little game, he may just be joining them, too.