Tag Archives: christmas

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Tap. Tap. Tap.

The rhythmic sound of Slinkys clattering down the staircase filled the quiet house as Nim crouched at the top step, lining up yet another brightly colored coil.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Leonard the giraffalope asked, one plush hoof tapping the ground nervously.

Nim grinned, his excitement uncontainable. “A good idea? No. A great idea? Absolutely! Trust m e, Leonard, this is going to be amazing!”

Leonard tilted his head. “Amazing? Or catastrophic?”

Nim waved him off. “Tomato, tomahto.” He gave the Slinky a gentle nudge, sending it tumbling down the steps. “See? Perfectly safe.”

Leonard sighed but couldn’t resist the playful glint in Nim’s eyes. “Fine. Let’s race.”

Moments later, Nim and Leonard cheered as coils bounced and clattered, each trying to outpace the other.

“Go, green one! Go!” Nim hollered, leaning over the banister.

“Blue’s taking the lead!” Leonard countered, his hooves tapping in excitement.

But then…disaster struck. One particularly springy Slinky veered off course, ricocheting off the banister and knocking over a precariously balanced toy tower at the bottom of the stairs. The tumbling toys set off a domino effect, sending blocks, stuffed animals, and action figures scattering across the living room.

Nim froze, his hands still in mid-cheer. Leonard’s button eyes widened in mock horror. For a moment, the two stared at the chaos in silence.

Then Nim snorted. Leonard let out a wheezy laugh. And before long, both were doubled over in uncontrollable giggles.

“Okay,” Nim managed between laughs, wiping a tear from his eye. “Maybe not one of our finer moments.”

“No,” Leonard agreed. “But definitely one of the most fun.”

As their laughter faded, Nim sank onto the bottom step, surveying the mess with a wistful smile. “This has been a blast. I couldn’t have asked for a better partner for my first season in the Elves of Christmas program.”

Leonard climbed up beside him, his movements slower, more deliberate than usual. “Right back at you, Nim. You’ve got a good heart. Maybe a bit too much energy…and sugar…but a good heart.”

Nim chuckled, then noticed Leonard’s vibrant fur seemed a little less bright, his movements less animated. His smile faded and he let out a long, heavy sigh. “Oh Leonard, this is it, isn’t it?

Leonard nudged Nim’s arm gently. “Cheer up, Nim. I’ve done my job, and it’s time for me to rest. But before I go, there’s something you should know.”

Nim leaned in, his brows furrowing. “What is it?”

“Lil’s assigned kids, Issabella and Cheyenne? They’re Joe and Jake’s cousins.”

Nim’s jaw dropped. “No way! How do you know that?”

Leonard smirked. “Giraffalope intuition.”

Nim shook his head, marveling at this bit of news.

“I’ll miss you, Leonard,” Nim said softly.

“I’ll miss you too, Nim. But you’ll be fine. Just keep being you. And maybe ease up on the maple syrup, yeah?”

Nim chuckled. “No promises.”

As the first light of dawn crept through the windows, Leonard gave Nim one last, proud smile. Then, with a gentle shimmer of magic, he stilled, his plush form slumping slightly as he transformed back into a simple stuffed giraffalope.

“Goodbye, Leonard.”

Click here to start from the beginning!

Smarti adjusted his tiny clipboard and surveyed the living room. Every detail had been carefully accounted for: garland hung at even intervals, stockings perfectly aligned, and the lights on the tree blinking in an exact sequence of red, green, and gold. He nodded in satisfaction, flipping to his next page of notes.

“Now, the farewell gesture,” he muttered. “A simple craft, something orderly and meaningful. Perhaps a scrapbook highlighting Eric’s achievements this year.”

“A scrapbook? Seriously?” Harold’s deep, jovial voice echoed from the corner. The giraffalope trotted forward, a tangle of tinsel draped over one antler and a string of popcorn caught on his hoof. “That’s so boring. Why not build something fun, like a race track for Eric’s toy cars? I could help make ramps!”

Smarti frowned, tapping his pen against the clipboard. “Harold, a farewell is not about frivolity. It should be organized and heartfelt. A race track will just create more chaos.”

“Not if we do it right!” Harold grinned. “Come on, Smarti. Let loose for once! Have some fun!”

“Fun?” Smarti bristled. “This isn’t about me. It’s about setting a good example for Eric who, I might add, is finally off the naughty list. Order and precision are essential.”

Harold tilted his head, his usual cheer dimming slightly. “You know, Smarti, sometimes it’s okay to loosen the reins. Eric doesn’t need perfection in order to stay off the naughty list.”

Smarti opened his mouth to argue but stopped. He glanced at Harold, the giraffalope’s gentle tone striking a chord. “I… I suppose there’s more than one way to leave an impression.”

“Exactly!” Harold beamed, stepping closer. “So, how about we mix our ideas? A scrapbook with some interactive elements. Maybe a pop-up race track on one page?”

Smarti rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Interactive… that could work. But no glitter. Glitter is chaos incarnate.”

“Deal,” Harold said, holding out a hoof. They shook on it.

The two worked late into the night, crafting a farewell gift that was the perfect mix Smarti’s precision and Harold’s playfulness with fold-out surprises and movable parts. Harold even managed to sneak in a small car ramp on the final page.

As they finished, Smarti sat back and sighed. “You know, Harold, this isn’t what I envisioned, but… it feels right.”

“Told you,” Harold said with a wink. “You just needed to loosen up a bit.”

Smarti’s gaze drifted to his clipboard, now lying forgotten on the table. “Harold, can I ask you something?”

“Of course,” Harold replied, settling onto the floor beside him.

“Do you think…” Smarti hesitated. “Do you think I’m too rigid for this program?”

Harold’s eyes softened. “I think you’re great at what you do, Smarti. But, if I may be so bold, you don’t seem to really enjoy it.”

Smarti sighed. “I enjoy parts of it. When an activity comes together as planned, when Eric follows instructions I’ve left, when I make entries into The Book. That is my kind of fun.”

Harold’s eyes lit with a sudden idea. “Smarti, maybe there’s a way for you to be part of this program in a different way.”

Smarti nodded slowly, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Perhaps Santa could use someone to refine the Instruction Manual. I’ve noticed quite a few areas that could use clarification.”

Harold laughed. “That sounds like you. And you’d be amazing at it.”

As the first rays of dawn crept into the room, Harold stretched, his movements slower than usual. Smarti’s sharp eyes didn’t miss the way Harold’s vibrant coat seemed just a bit duller.

“Harold,” Smarti said softly. “Are you…?”

Harold nodded, a serene smile on his face. “It’s time, Smarti.”

Smarti swallowed hard, his usual composure faltering. “I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too, Smarti,” Harold said. “But you’re going to do great things. Just promise me one thing.”

“Don’t force Eric to read another book on good behavior?”

“No, don’t forget to have a little fun now and then.”

Smarti chuckled softly. “I’ll try.”

By the time Eric woke up, the fun, and organized, scrapbook sat on the dining room table. Harold stood beside it, now just a plain old stuffed giraffalope.

Smarti watched from his hiding spot, a bittersweet smile on his face. “Goodbye, Harold.”

Click here to start from the beginning!

Nim paced back and forth in the living room, chewing on his fingernails. His face was flushed, and his normally jolly demeanor was replaced by pure panic.

“Help! It’s Joe’s birthday tomorrow!” he blurted out, throwing his hands in the air.

Within moments, and seemingly out of nowhere, the Elves of Christmas assembled. Lil stood by, eager to get started. Pepper practically bounced in place, radiating enthusiasm. Flaky twirled on her toes with an airy smile. Smarti had already pulled out a notebook and pen, ready to take charge.

Nim’s eyes rounded. “H-How…?”

“Emergency protocol,” said Smarti, his tone clipped and efficient. “Santa and Mrs. Claus set it up in case of an emergency. This counts. What’s the plan?” 

Nim quickly shook his head and moaned. “That’s the problem! I don’t have one! We have to do something amazing, but there can’t be any messes, chaos, or—”

“Messes?!” Flaky interrupted, her eyes sparkling with an idea. “What if we create an indoor snowstorm and—”.

“No!” Nim said, cutting her off before she could finish. “Absolutely no messes.”

Lil piped up. “We need to bake a cake! A birthday isn’t complete without one.”

“Organized fun is essential,” Smarti added, jotting a few notes on his clipboard. “We’ll create a detailed schedule of events.”

“Oh, let’s make a balloon arch!” Pepper exclaimed, clapping her hands. “I saw one on Sprite-a-gram. It was perfectly whimsical!”

Flaky raised her hand timidly. “Um, I could set up a zipline. Gretyl taught me.”

“Wait!” Nim shouted, throwing his arms wide. “No ziplines, no chaos, and no snowstorms!” He paused, his voice dropping to a panicked whisper. “We need to keep this clean, simple, and disaster-free.”

For a moment, all was silent. The elves glanced at one another, unsure of what to suggest next.

And then:

“The boys both love snowball fights!” Leonard the Giraffalope’s cheerful voice broke the stillness as he trotted into the room.

Nim spun around, his face a mixture of disbelief and horror. “How could you? I just said no messes!”

But it was too late. At being given permission to make a birthday mess, the elves’ faces lit up with excitement.

“A snowball fight!” Pepper squealed. “That’s perfect!”

Flaky clapped her hands. “I can whip up a blizzard in no time!”

“No!” Nim shouted, but his voice was drowned out by the flurry of activity.

Within minutes, the living room was transformed. 

Flaky conjured a miniature blizzard, blanketing the room in sparkling, fluffy snow. 

Lacking balloons, Pepper set up a snow-white arch made of toilet paper rolls, which doubled as a bunker. 

Smarti marked out the snowball “battle zones” with string and made rules for the game (though no one was paying attention to him). 

Lil shaped perfectly round snowballs, stacking them into neat piles.

Leonard gleefully tied a balloon to each antler. “This is going to be epic!”

Nim sat on the couch, head in his hands. “This is the opposite of clean and simple,” he muttered.

“Relax, Nim,” Pepper said, tossing a snowball into the air and catching it.

Just then, the clock chimed softly—Joe and his family were waking up.

“Everybody freeze!” Nim hissed.

The elves and Leonard dove for cover, leaving the living room looking like a winter wonderland. Snow glittered in the morning light, and the birthday decorations gleamed with festive cheer.

As the family wandered into the room, gasping with delight, Nim let out a small sigh of relief. Maybe—just maybe—it hadn’t been a total disaster.

Click here to start from the beginning!

Pepper danced around the kitchen, her wooden spoon a makeshift baton as she stirred the cookie dough. The smell of sugar, vanilla, and butter filled the air, and she hummed a cheerful tune.

“Lucile!” Pepper called, pausing her stirring to look over her shoulder at the giraffalope, who was perched precariously on a stool. “Now remember, no eating the dough until the cookies are baked. Raw eggs, you know. Bad for you.”

Lucile nodded solemnly. “Got it. No dough.”

Pepper raised an eyebrow but returned to her task. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted Lucile sneaking pawfuls of chocolate chips from the bag.

She frowned. “Lucile, that’s enough chocolate chips! You’ll make yourself sick.”

“But you didn’t say anything about these!” Lucile said with a mischievous grin, popping another chip into her mouth.

Pepper sighed. “Fine, but don’t come crying to me if you eat too many and—”

“Never!” Lucile interrupted, her mouth full of chocolate.

Pepper rolled her eyes and got back to her work, quickly shaping each cookie with the precision of an elf who had spent years perfecting festive treats. By the time the dough was scooped onto the baking sheets and placed into the oven, Lucile was slouched on the stool, her ears drooping.

“Lucile?” Pepper turned to see the giraffalope clutching her stomach.

“I… I think I ate too many chocolate chips,” Lucile groaned.

Pepper sighed again, shaking her head. “I warned you.”

“You warned me about the dough,” Lucile muttered. “Not the chips.”

Before Pepper could respond, Lucile’s stomach let out a loud, gurgling sound. “Uh-oh.”

Pepper barely had time to grab a dish towel before Lucile leaned over the counter and—

“Bleh!” A cascade of chocolate chips spilled from Lucile’s mouth, scattering across the counter like tiny, sugary marbles.

Pepper froze, her spoon hovering mid-air. “Did you just…puke chocolate chips?!”

Lucile nodded miserably.

Pepper looked at the giraffalope, then at the counter now covered in shiny, uneaten chocolate chips. “You’re unbelievable,” she muttered, grabbing a spatula to start cleaning up.

Lucile whimpered. “Am I gonna be okay, Pepper?”

The elf softened. “Yes, Lucile. Elves and, I have to assume, giraffalopes are built to handle a lot of sugar, but you should probably stick to hay for the rest of the night.”

Lucile nodded, flopping onto the floor dramatically.

As Pepper cleaned up the mess, she muttered to herself, “I bet Santa never thought we’d need a rule for this.”

Later that night, as the cookies cooled on the counter and Lucile snored softly in the corner, Pepper made her entry in The Book:

Do bake cookies to spread holiday cheer. Don’t let your giraffalope eat an entire bag of chocolate chips unless you enjoy cleaning sugary puddles off the counter.

Flaky crouched behind her carefully constructed fortress, a tower made of precisely stacked rolls of toilet paper. She adjusted her goggles and peeked over the edge, scanning for any sign of movement. “Gretyl? Greeetyyyyl?” she whispered under her breath.

From across the room, Gretyl’s giggles echoed, high-pitched and mischievous. “You’ll never see me coming, Flaky! Prepare for bombardment!”

Flaky ducked just in time as a flurry of toilet paper bombs—loosely balled sheets of fluffy white—flew through the air. One grazed the tip of her ear, sending a puff of powdery tissue into the air.

“Oh-ho-ho, the battle begins!” Flaky shouted. She grabbed a handful of her own ammunition and lobbed it over her fortress. “Direct hit!” she cheered as Gretyl yelped dramatically.

“You think that was a hit? That was but a love tap!” Gretyl’s voice came from somewhere behind her own slightly crooked fortress. “Watch this!”

Before Flaky could react, Gretyl popped up, a toilet paper roll clutched in her hooves. With a dramatic spin, she launched it through the air like a snowball. Flaky tried to dodge, but the roll bounced off her goggles, unraveling in a spiraling cascade.

Flaky spluttered as she untangled herself. “Fiend!”

“And don’t you forget it!” Gretyl pranced in place, clearly delighted with herself. Her tower wobbled precariously, but she didn’t seem to notice.

Flaky grinned, her voice taking on a sing-song lilt. “Oh, Gretyl!” She reached behind her tower and pulled out her secret weapon: an entire roll of toilet paper wrapped tightly in tape for extra weight and aerodynamics. 

Gretyl’s eyes widened. “Flaky, no…”

“Flaky, yes!” With a mighty throw, Flaky sent the roll sailing across the room. It hit Gretyl’s fortress dead center, sending the entire structure collapsing in a flurry of toilet paper. Gretyl stood there, surrounded by the ruins, her mouth agape.

For a moment, all was silent. Then Gretyl threw her head back and laughed. “That was amazing! I didn’t think you had it in you, Flaky!”

Flaky climbed over the remains of her own fortress and extended a hand to Gretyl. Gretyl took Flaky’s hand with a grin.

The two of them sat on the floor amidst the chaos, giggling and catching their breath. Flaky glanced at Gretyl, her smile fading just slightly. “Oh Gretyl, I’ll miss these shenanigans, you know.”

Gretyl’s ears drooped for a moment before she perked up again. “Don’t you worry, Flaky. I’ll always be part of the memories we made. And hey, we still have a week. Let’s make it count.”

Flaky nodded, her heart full. “Oh yes, let’s make it legendary!”

Click here to start from the beginning!

Nim watched Leonard twirl around the tree with a sad sigh. Santa told them that the giraffalopes knew their fate, but was it polite to talk about it?

“Hey, Leonard?”

“Hmm?”

“Santa said…he told us…that is…”.

“You know.”

Nim nodded. 

“Well, good!” Leonard jumped up. “I always thought it was silly to keep it a secret from you, but you know the Big Guy…”.

Nim was starting to think he didn’t know the big guy at all, actually. “Aren’t you sad, Leonard?”

“Sad?”

“Yeah. After this year you won’t be around to…help me.”

“Pah! That is not at all true!”

Nim eyed Leonard, suddenly worried that Santa hadn’t really explained the situation to the giraffalopes.

“I mean, I may not be able to help you, but I’ll be around. Those boys love me and there is no way they are getting rid of me after this season.”

Nim smiled. “Of course they love you, Leonard. Of course they do.”

Leonard gave a brief nod. “So, what’s on the agenda tonight?”

“Fun with fruit.” Nim held up a bag of oranges and a bag of assorted googly eyes. 

“Huh?”

“I heard Joe’s mom saying she had ‘eyes everywhere’ so they’d better behave, so I thought…let’s put eyes everywhere.”

Nim and Leonard got to work. By the time they were through the bag of googly eyes, they’d eyed up all the oranges, bananas, apples, and pears in the house. 

“Hm,” said Nim as they stood back to admire their work.

“It’s a little…”

“Too much?” finished Nim.

“Over the top,” said Leonard.

Nim tilted his head, taking in the fruit army staring back at them. He started laughing—a full, belly-deep laugh that made his pointy ears wiggle. “Over the top is kind of the point, isn’t it?”

Leonard joined in, chuckling. “You’re right. We’ve created an army of fruit that’s ready to shame anyone sneaking a cookie before dinner.”

“Perfect,” Nim said, grinning. “But I think we can go further.”

Leonard raised an eyebrow. “Further? We’re out of fruit and out of eyes.”

Nim rummaged through a drawer and pulled out a roll of tape. “Who said anything about stopping with fruit? What about the cereal boxes? The milk jug? Oh, and the sugar container!”

Leonard’s eyes widened.

Nim grinned. “Now, let’s get to work.”

For the next hour, the two of them added googly eyes to every possible surface in the kitchen. By the time they were done, everything from the salt shaker to the toaster glared back at them with wide, wobbly eyes.

Leonard wiped his brow dramatically. “Well, I’m officially exhausted. Do you think this will actually work?”

Nim shrugged. “If nothing else, it’ll give the boys something to think about. And maybe it’ll make them laugh.”

“Or scream,” Leonard added, smirking.

Nim chuckled. “Either way, mission accomplished.”

Just as they were about head to their spots for the night, Nim stopped and glanced back at the googly-eyed chaos. He turned to Leonard with a mischievous grin. “You know…we could always do the bathroom next.”