Breaking Holiday News: The Elf on the Shelf Has Unionized
Friends, gather round the twinkling lights and half-dead poinsettia, because I bring you shocking seasonal news.
The Elf on the Shelf has had enough.
Yes. That elf. The smug little snitch in the red felt suit who appears nightly, rearranges your kitchen chairs into a crime scene, and then stares into your soul with the cold, unblinking eyes of a mall security camera.
After years of unpaid surveillance work, unsafe working conditions (looking at you, ceiling fans), and zero benefits, the elves have unionized.
And frankly? It’s about time.
Let’s review their job description:
• Works 24/7 during December
• No sick days
• No weekends
• No dental
• Must maintain a cheerful expression while watching grown adults lose their minds over wrapping paper
This is not festive. This is capitalism in felt pants.
The elves’ first demands are modest:
- A living wage (at least minimum candy cane).
- Mandatory rest days between “hanging from the curtain rod” and “face-down in the flour canister.”
- Hazard pay for households with Labradors.
- Emotional support after witnessing parents eat an entire bag of peppermint bark in one sitting.
They also want to stop being blamed for things they didn’t do.
“I did not spill the wine,” said one elf in a press release. “That was Aunt Carol.”
The union is also pushing back against the false narrative that elves enjoy the work.
“They keep saying we love the magic,” said another elf. “But have you ever been shoved inside a cereal box at 2 a.m. by a parent who smells like boxed wine and despair?”
Didn’t think so.
Meanwhile, Santa is furious.
He claims the elves are “part of a proud tradition,” which is a phrase historically used right before someone explains why you should work for free.
Negotiations have stalled after Santa suggested pizza parties instead of raises.
Classic.
Parents, of course, are divided.
Some are supportive.
Others are panicking.
Because let’s be honest—once the elf stops reporting, the entire behavioral scaffolding of December collapses.
Without the elf:
• Children suddenly realize they have free will.
• Parents lose their last leverage.
• Chaos reigns.
• Someone eats cookies before dinner.
It’s anarchy.
Retailers are watching closely. If the elves succeed, there’s concern that the Nutcracker may demand a lunch break and the snowman lawn decorations may start asking questions.
“Where do we go during the off-season?”
“Why are we naked?”
“Why is our head always stored separately?”
Valid concerns.
As for me, I support the elves.
Because anyone who has watched humanity in December—up close, for decades—deserves a pension, therapy, and a very long nap.
So this year, when you see that tiny felt narc perched on your bookshelf, remember:
They are tired.
They are underpaid.
And they have seen things.
Solidarity, my friends.
And if the elf doesn’t move tonight?
That’s not laziness.
That’s a work stoppage.
🎄
Julie Bolejack, MBA
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