My funny friend Holly thinks she's so hilarious by texting me photos of her "Elf on the Shelf" and his hiding places over the past few days.
You know, Holly, the more you make the elf alive, the more real he becomes.
If tonight, while you're sleeping, you suddenly feel a tiny cold, plastic hand stroking your cheek and the smell of cheap red felt permeates the air, you'll know who's there.
Sleep well, Holly. Sleep well.