Listen.

I know what they say about me.

“Elfie’s been real B‑A‑D this year.”
“Elfie’s out of control.”
“Elfie needs to calm down before Santa puts him on a performance improvement plan.”

And to that I say:

Correct.

Because I, Elfie J. McSparkle, am not here to sit politely on a shelf like some kind of decorative hostage.
No.
I am here to bring the drama.

And this December?
I have delivered.

Let’s review my résumé:

• Climbed the Christmas present bows like a caffeinated squirrel
• Took the Monster Jam trucks for a joyride
• Left a poop joke in the bathroom (my finest work)
• Hosted a full‑scale elf summit with every elf in the tri‑county area
• Left gifts for Jack and James because chaos must be balanced with generosity
• Drew on the bathroom mirror because I am an artist
• And yes… moved after James knocked over my train, because I am nothing if not resilient

But the best part of my job?

Jack.

Every morning, that kid wakes up like he’s the lead detective in a holiday crime show.

He bursts out of bed, hair everywhere, eyes wide, yelling,
“WHERE’S ELFIE? WHAT DID HE DO?”

And behind him?
James.
Trotting along like a tiny reindeer who has no idea what’s happening but refuses to be left out.

I hear them coming from a mile away.
Jack’s footsteps are fast and determined.
James’s are… rhythmic.
Like a toddler drumline.

And then Jack sees me.

Today, he found me sitting proudly after my train incident, with my message on the mirror:

“Take an #ELFIE with me!”

He gasped like I’d just revealed the ending of a movie.

James pointed at the hat I drew and said,
“Hat.”
Which, honestly, is advanced commentary for him.

Then Jack turned to Mom with the seriousness of a man twice his age and said:

“It’s a good thing Elfie cleans up his own messes. Even though he’s been so B‑A‑D this year.”

And Mom?
She tried not to laugh.
She tried so hard.
But her face did that thing where she’s pretending to be shocked but she’s actually delighted.

And me?

I sat there thinking:

Yes, Jack. I am bad.
But I am bad for you.
For the magic.
For the memories.
For the chaos that makes December sparkle.

Tomorrow, I will be bad again.
I don’t know how yet.
But inspiration always strikes around 2 a.m.

And Jack will run.
And James will trot.
And Mom will smirk.
And I will be exactly who I was meant to be:

The tiny red agent of Christmas mischief.

---

🎅 A Short Note From Santa

Ho ho ho!

Jack,

I’ve been keeping a close eye on Elfie this season, and I must say… he’s been a very busy little elf. Some might even say he’s been a bit B‑A‑D — but between you and me, that’s only because he knows how much you love the magic and the surprises.

Thank you for taking such good care of him, even when he makes a mess or gets into mischief. He tells me every night how excited you are to find him each morning, and that makes my sleigh bells ring with joy.

Keep being kind, keep believing, and keep an eye on that little rascal. He’s got a few more tricks up his sleeve before Christmas.

Merry Christmas,
Santa Claus