Once upon a time in Gunterland, there was an elf. An old, semi-retired elf who wore not a green hat, but a cowboy hat. This particular elf was a Scrooge who often exclaimed, "I hate Christmas!!" I know, I know. English teachers always say not to use more than one exclamation point, but, hey!, I don't have to listen anymore--and he hated Christmas a lot. However, he was, after all, an elf of some experience and renown and he knew that Christmas chores were not only inevitable, but necessary. So this year, he outdid himself:
- He made new stands for the Father Christmases.
- He's made innumerable trips to town for whatever is necessary (even as I write he's in Othello buying new pajamas for pajama day at school.
- He's put up the Christmas tree.
- He's made cookies.
- He helped make ornaments.
- And as the King said: etcetera, etcetera, ETCETERA.
Now don't you think he is the grandest of Santa's elves. I DO AND I LOVE HIM FOR IT.
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