Remember how I talked about how my family has the tradition of the elf bringing us pajamas every year? The reason for the tradition was mainly when we were younger, so it could get us to go to bed. So when Gorky (or after The Santa Clause came out, Bernard) brought our pajamas, we knew it was time for us to go to bed because Santa was on his way.
I always loved it because the door bell would ring and we would open the door to find a basket of pajamas for all of us. We would rush outside and look in the sky to see if we could see the reindeer or sleigh that the elf had borrowed.
I always thought it was great how Gorky/Bernard always knew our sizes and the kind of pajamas we wanted. Although as the elf and us got older, sometimes he'd forget what pants were for who (read my mom couldn't remember which pants she bought for which kid). My parents got tired of the elf for awhile and would always say that the elf had died in a freak accident and couldn't do it anymore. But we'd always say that Santa had plenty of other elves to help out, so we still got pajamas anyway. When I discovered the truth about Santa and therefore the elf, I got to be the elf a few times.
The ploy would be that my mom had the basket already to go and sitting in an inconspicuous garbage bag in the garage. Then, my dad would demand that I take the trash out. I would begrudgingly take the garbage outside to the trash can and also pick up the "other" garbage bag. After disposing of the evidence, I'd sneak around to the front of the house, set the basket down, ring the doorbell and run like hell to the back of the house again. My parents would always stall for me so I'd have some time to come back inside, and my younger siblings would all ask if I saw the elf since I was outside. I'd make a big show about how I saw something so that's why I had run back in (since I was breathing heavy from ding-dong ditching my own house). They'd tell me I missed it and he totally brought pajamas while I was taking the trash out, and I'd act sad that I hadn't seen anything.
Once my other siblings discovered who the real elf and Santa was we each had to take turns being the elf. The last year when Marin found out, she got to be the Elf and we had to pretend because she hadn't gotten a turn. Now that we all know, my mom just pulls the pajamas out of her closet and doles them out to us (still confusing whose pants are for who). Ahh the joys of pajamas from Bernard the Christmas Pajama Elf.
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