There is an evil elf living in my living room who hates me. I swear.

There is a remote control elf in our house. I am totally convinced of it. How else do you explain the fact that our clicker is constantly disappearing? One minute the remote will be resting nicely on the coffee table, and the next, it’s gone.

I swear, there is a little ogre in our living room who likes to fuck with me. I think he lives in the kitty litter box.

OK, so Siig has a tendency to subconsciously carry the clicker with him whenever he leaves the living room and goes into the kitchen or bathroom or his truck. But that doesn’t explain every time the remote goes missing. Sometimes, it just vanishes, not to be found for hours, even days. Then we are forced to get off the couch and our lazy asses and – gasp! – actually get up and change the channel on the TV. This really puts a dent in my channel surfing. TV just isn’t as fun if I can’t constantly click back and forth between Real Housewives of New Jersey CNN, Keeping Up With the Kardashians MSNBC and Doctor 90210 Headline News while sitting on my behind.

I’ve looked for the remote control elf – behind the couches, under the coffee table, even in the fireplace. I can’t find him. But I can hear him snickering. Sometimes, it drives me insane: “I just had the frickin’ thing in my hand!” I shout in disbelief when I go to change the channel and the remote is gone. I destroy the living room in my desperate search for my key to laziness – pulling all the pillows off the couch, turning the table upside down, even cleaning up the dried cat puke that’s been sitting there for days that I’ve trying to ignore. And then, when I can’t find it, I scream and pull all my hair out.

Just when I think the clicker has vanished into the nether regions of my home for good, it resurfaces. I will find it under the pillow that I already looked under five times, but on the sixth time, it’s there. How did that happen? It’s the dam clicker elf. He hates me and gets some kind of sick pleasure from watching me go crazy looking for the remote. I wish the remote had a ringer and I could call it just like I do when I lose my cell phone.

I should invent that. As soon as I find the little elf living in my house. And clean up the cat puke.

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6 thoughts on “There is an evil elf living in my living room who hates me. I swear.

  1. Dude we totally have the same name, so I thought maybe you lived near me, alas no but cool name just the same.

    My dad used to say the atmic mole people did it when something went missing. I blame it on the cats because while they pretend that they are all weak with no opposable thumb I know they spend their days coming up with ways to screw with me!

    • I never thought it could be the cat! Dam kitty. She pukes on our carpet and now she is stealing the remote.

      We must be some kind of soul sisters to have the same name. Where do you live?

      • Originally from Chicago and moved to West Virginia about 5 years ago- I love the mountains but it takes some getting used to- my friends started calling me mountain mamma when they found out we were moving here- and yes from the john Denver song.

      • I never thought of the John Denver song when naming my blog. But I guess that refers more to your neck of the woods, not the California Sierras.

  2. I know, right? When our remote “disappears” (come to think of it, I have tricky cats, too), I get so annoyed. I have to get up off the chair and turn the channel. This makes me crazy. I mean, really screaming crazy.

    Oh and also, my daughter took off the back of the remote and lost it, so now the batteries fall out. Not only do I lose the remote, but there’s only a 50/50 chance it has the batteries. I cannot win. It’s like I’m supposed to read a book or learn something.

    P.S. Have you been watching Real HW of NYC? I cannot take it. Those women are like kindergarteners. Ramona? Puleeza. Its a scary world when Alex seems like the normal one. I can’t wait until next week.

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