Dear Kid,

Once upon a time, there was no such thing as Bigfoot. Then one night Joe Neanderthal was inspired to tell a bedtime story based on his teenage son’s sneakers. The Bigfoot story became one of the Neanderthals’ favorites, and a legend was born.

In the original version, Bigfoot’s name was a result of not being able to find sneakers in an appropriate size. You have to remember that this was in the olden days before basketball players and Nike were invented.

In order to keep his children entertained, Joe sometimes changed the name of the character to things like Sasquatch and Yeti. But since he was a Neanderthal and his kids were Neanderthals that’s all he had to change in order to make them think it was an entirely new story.

If you were to check with My Good Friend The Internet, you’d find that people have been arguing about whether Bigfoot is “real” for a squillion years. Of course, arguing about Bigfoot being “real” is as silly as arguing about whether Winnie-the-Pooh is real. Duh.

Like all good stories, the tale of Bigfoot has been handed (or footed if you prefer) down over the years. Because of the Polar Vortex (seems like as good a reason as any), the People of the NorthWest seem to have taken the story a little more to heart than people in other places. There have been more searchings there than elsewhere, but what these people fail to realize is they’re just looking for a really good bedtime story. Personally, I recommend Dr. Seuss’s Sleep Book. And King Bidgood’s in the Bathtub.

Over the years there have been sightings, footprints, blurry pictures, and more sightings of Bigfoot. Some have speculated that during the offseason Santa likes to dress up in really big gorilla costumes. I think it’s more likely the elves are playing tricks on Santa, but as I’ve said before I’m still waiting to meet some great elves.

Through the years, the story has varied a little, but make no mistake—Bigfoot was invented by Joe as a way to get his children to go to sleep.

‘Night.

Love, Mom

Dear Kid,

Yes, my dear, it is That Time of Year. The Time when we talk about the meaning of the holidays and the importance of elves.

Elves?

Yes, elves.

You must, O Best Beloved, keep up with the different types of elves. Confuse your elves and you might easily end up wearing a chocolate chip cookie rather than eating it.

Mom’s Guide to Elves

In this corner, we have the Keebler elves. Mascot: Flaky crackers and chocolate chip cookies. Live in a tree and bake in a tree. Known for giggling.

In that corner, we have Santa’s elves. Mascot: Flying reindeer. Live at the North Pole and work in a toy factory. Known for making toys and singing cheerful Christmas songs.

In the far corner, we have the elves of other worlds. The ones that fight and sling swords and consort with Hobbits and other interesting creatures. Mascot: Something slyly vicious. Live in other worlds too numerous and fictional to mention. Known for all sorts of things usually involved in warfare.

In the near corner, we have the Elf on a Shelf (closely related to the Mensch on a Bench*). Mascot: Santa. Lives on a shelf. Known for spying on small children and reporting back to the head honcho, S. Claus himself.

And in my corner, we have…no elves. I’d like to have the Helpful Elves. You know, the ones that come out at night and make shoes for the cobbler or perhaps wash dishes that didn’t get done the night before. The ones who can successfully wage war (gently) with the Dust Dragons under the couch. The ones who have the time, energy, and ability to pick up dirty laundry and send it down the chute to the laundry room and then fold the clean laundry and put it away. Those are the elves I’d like.

I have no elves.

I keep asking for elves. I keep putting out little socks in the hopes that some of them will take up residence here. So far, no luck. I am elf-less.

In case you run into any homeless elves, please consider inviting them over for a while. Even a short stay would be lovely.

Love, Mom

*The Mensch on a Bench is a real thing. The family who invented them lives here in Cincinnati and attends Temple Sholom. They are sold out for this year but promise to make enough for everyone next year.