Dang. My folks made us continue to play along, or else we wouldn't get any presents.
Same here, and that's what my kids must endure as well. But we all have some fun with it now. At least I don't have to set an alarm to wake up and put out presents, I just tell the kids, "Go to your room and don't come out until morning,"
The elf on the shelf, on the other hand, is a hellish punishment no mere mortal should have to bear. My MIL gave us one for the kids, about 12 years ago, and my i s c & a aggie wife thought it would be a lot of fun. But let me tell ya, moving that little bastard around every night for a decade was a complete freaking beating. 10 years X 25 nights = 250 times I've had to remember to get it done, sometimes even waking up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat trying to remember if I'd already moved it or not.
I'll be honest, there's been a time or two we had to explain to the kids that "Sparkles" didn't switch places overnight because the air traffic at the North Pole was too congested and she just stayed at our place overnight.
But now we have some fun with that, too. These days the kids might find passed out on the counter after an all-night bender of pounding chocolate chips, marshmallows, and coca cola. Or tied up and hanging upside down, with a couple of Imperial Stormtroopers marking her position with their basters. Or in the mouth of the big dinosaur my son still loves so much. Fun stuff.
