Bad Mommy/Good Sister

We have an elf in our house. His name is Funny. For most of December Funny lives with us. At night, when the kids are asleep, Funny goes back to the North Pole and tells Santa all about the kids' behavior. Then, when they get up in the morning, they have to find where Funny "landed" when he returned. He's been in the refrigerator, the Christmas tree...even the car!

Sometimes Funny is naughty, like when he toilet papered the bathroom or when he spilled cornflakes all over the table. Sometimes he plays with their toys, like when we found him sitting next to a tower of Legos StinkyMan had cleaned up just the night before. But most of the time, Funny is mild and just a brief morning game.

I have forgotten to put Funny in a new spot on more than one occasion. I'll wake up in the middle of the night, realize I've forgotten and trudge downstairs to put him on his latest perch. I have also had to do it quickly in the morning, before the kids start looking for him.

Before I go any further, I need to tell you that Curly is fully aware that it is all me. She knows Funny is just a toy. She knows he doesn't go to the North Pole (although she does believe in Santa still) and she knows that this is all for StinkyMan's and Peanut's benefit and she happily goes on the morning Funny hunt.

So Saturday night I forgot to stash Funny somewhere. I woke up at ten Sunday morning with that as my first thought (It was my day to sleep in.) I lay there for a good twenty minutes trying to think up what excuse I would give for Funny being in the EXACT SAME SPOT as the day before. And all I could think to say was that the kids had been so good he hadn't had to go see Santa at the North Pole.

So I went downstairs and was greeted by StinkyMan, who grabbed my hand to show me where Funny was.

Well, he wasn't where I thought he would be. Nope, he had moved to the kitchen counter and had spilled puzzle pieces all over the counter and was making a puzzle. StinkyMan jumped up and down with excitement. "Funny was making a puzzle! He made a mess!"

Quizzically I looked at Husband who was pretty much not paying any attention to the Funny business at hand. He must be responsible, right?

Until I looked at Curly. She quietly pointed at herself and mouthed "I did it."

I nearly cried. Her mama had dropped the ball and my sweet big girl picked it up and ran with it. She knew her brother would be looking and she knew what had to be done and she did it.

I gave her high fives and big hugs and told her over and over (quietly of course so our cover wouldn't be blown) how very, very proud I was of her and what a wonderful big sister she is.

I feel awed by my six year old. I am always proud to be her mom, but in moments like this I feel especially lucky to have a kid like her.

Way to go, Baby. Way to go.