I never wanted an Elf on the Shelf. But last year, just when I thought we were exiting the believing-in-Santa years, my daughter saved up her money and asked me to drive her to Target to buy an elf. So now I have to put this thing in a new cute and creative position every night. It’s December 4 and I’ve already run out of ideas.
My daughter, by the way, ignored my objections that a magical creature with free will and capable of high speed international travel should not need to be purchased, and in fact, cannot ethically be owned. We brought the elf home last year, and I dutifully used salad tongs to remove it from its package and place it on the mantel. (I tried not to laugh, but honestly this was the best part.) She named it Star. And somehow we got through the season.
I remember getting bored with placing it here, versus placing it there. The elf can’t be touched, so anything you put it on or in can’t be used all day. But we got through the season. I positioned it with other toys, and at one point seated Star at a dollhouse table with a bobblehead of Fred from Scooby Doo. This must be a date, my daughter declared. By Christmas Eve they were married. (I made a little wedding dress and veil out of tissues.)
But now it’s another year. I hoped my daughter would forget about the elf. She has emphatically not forgotten, and cannot wait to see what kinds of adventures could top the marriage storyline from last year. Sigh.
Surely AI can help me, right?
AI can do anything these days, right? I wouldn’t trust any LLM for factual information, but I’ve found them helpful for brainstorming in the past. Surely ChatGPT or Claude could give me some ideas for what to do with this darn elf. After all, they did such a great job helping my fellow Lifehacker writer Stephen Johnson pick out a gift for his son! (Do not click that link if you want to continue thinking of AI as intelligent.)
I had seen other lists of Elf on the Shelf ideas that involved lots of mess or finicky setups. I get that “elf making a mess” scenarios are probably hilarious and boundary-pushing for their toddler-aged demographic, but I am not going to clean up all the sprinkles or glitter the elf “gets into” (i.e., that I pour all around her). So I asked ChatGPT specifically for “ideas for Elf on the Shelf that are quick and easy and NOT MESSY (no food).”
ChatGPT does not know how elves work
Point in ChatGPT’s favor: it did not suggest anything with food. It gave me 20 ideas to start with. These are the ones that looked viable, if boring.
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Elf with a small toy. “Place the Elf next to a small toy or action figure. You could have it holding the toy or sitting next to it, as if they’re playing together.” (On the one hand: yes, this meets the requirements. On the other: we’ve done a lot of this, and our elf can only have so many husbands.)
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Elf taking a nap. “Lay the Elf down in a cozy spot, like a tissue box or a mitten, with a tiny blanket made from a napkin or cloth. A small pillow or cotton ball can complete the setup.” Sleeping on the job?! But, OK, could be cute.
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Elf on a swing. “Use a piece of string or yarn to create a swing, and place the Elf on it. You can hang it from a shelf, light fixture, or a chair.” Sounds precarious, but maybe doable.
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Elf using miniature furniture (been there)
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Elf in a stocking (done that)
Not much to go on there. There were several head-scratching suggestions too, like this one: “Elf on the phone: Place the Elf next to a toy phone, a pretend laptop, or even your real phone (if it’s nearby). The Elf could be making a “call” to Santa, or checking in on who’s been naughty or nice.”
My real phone?? I don’t think ChatGPT understands that this is an all-day proposition. The elf doesn’t just borrow your phone “if it’s nearby.” Even more perplexing was “Elf on a shelf in a jar: Put the Elf inside a jar (or a clear container), and add a small note saying, “Caught me!” It gives the illusion that they’ve been ‘caught’ by you.”
I’m supposed to surprise my child with the fact that they have been chasing the elf around with a jar? I don’t think the premise works, nor does it make sense to capture the elf. The elf willingly comes to our home every night (according to legend) and if we were to trap her here, she wouldn’t be able to do the communications with Santa that the child is so invested in.
ChatGPT also suggested I set the elf up in “spy” scenarios (she is already a spy), give her “a holiday card in hand” (those hands don’t hold anything, have you tried?), or “Place the Elf with a small stick, straw, or a pencil as if they’ve been practicing magic or casting spells.” I’m not sure how a pencil next to the elf (or even in its hand, if I could manage that) is supposed to be interpreted as a magic wand.
But that’s just ChatGPT. Claude is supposed to be smarter. Let’s see.
Credit: Beth Skwarecki
Claude doesn’t know how elves work, either, but at least it tries
Claude still holds the title of the AI with the least grating personality. When I asked it “what do I do with this fucking elf?” it cheerfully asked me what [the hell] kind of elf I was talking about. It did not read the room though, since its very first suggestion was “Have the elf ‘making snow angels’ in a pile of flour or powdered sugar.” Or it could draw mustaches on family photos (what?!) or make a mess with decorations or zipline across the room.
“These need to be lazy and easy ideas,” I told it. “No messes. No going out and buying supplies. Definitely no ziplines.”
It then responded with what you might call the opposite of ideas. Just put the elf somewhere, it said. Kitchen counter. TV. Windowsill. Bookshelf. “The less effort, the better.” I agree with the sentiment, but I was hoping for something more. After a few more rounds of nonsense (eating all the marshmallows from the hot cocoa mix? Are you serious?) I finally coaxed it into giving me a few good ones:
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Elf sitting in a toy car like it’s driving
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Elf pretending to read a tiny book
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Elf “yoga” pose next to a houseplant
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Elf “sleeping” in a small toy bed
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Elf “riding” a stuffed animal
There were some misunderstandings about size here as well. The elf could look through binoculars made of toilet paper rolls. (It could not.) It could wear a small sock as a hat. (How small do you think socks are??) It could be “posed like it’s taking a selfie near a phone.” Whose phone, and how could she possibly do a selfie pose with a phone that’s as big as she is?)
Claude sends my elf to the Olympics
I realized I would have to help a bit more. I told Claude about the romance storyline from last year. Could it suggest any similar, easy storylines?
Not only did it agree, it told me my wedding gambit was “hilarious.” (Thank you, Claude.) It suggested that the elf go on a journey toward becoming a rock star. The elf could discover a toy guitar (“or air guitar,” but that would be tough to read—I could make one out of cardboard, though.) The elf could practice singing, try on sunglasses, make a band poster, audition in front of other toys acting as judges, sign a record deal, and finally play her first concert. Maybe a little backwards in chronology, but workable in concept.
I asked for more ideas, and got an elf “escape” story. I’m sorry, but Star already magically travels to the North Pole every night. We are not holding her captive. I also nixed the “spy” storyline; she’s a spy already, that’s the whole deal. There was a “failed magician” storyline where the hints are simply things like “Day 4: Looks like he’s trying to do a magic trick. Day 5: Another ‘failed’ magic moment.”
Finally we hit pay dirt. Training for the Olympics! The elf can stretch, lift weights, practice a sport, and finally earn a medal. This sounds doable. Let’s try.
Credit: Beth Skwarecki
Claude overestimates my elf’s posing abilities
OK, position the elf like she’s stretching for a workout. Up to this point I’d never done much posing with the elf; I’d just plopped her, seated, into different settings. But now she needs to become more athletic. I discovered that there are basically no stretches you can easily do with your hands stitched together. So I cut the thread to separate her hands. But now it was hard to get her positioned in anything other than a seated pose. Her body is heavy. Her legs can’t hold her up. I’m not sure even Adriene would be able to find this girl an accessible position other than Savasana, which would just make it look like I killed her.
Finally, I managed a sort of runner’s stretch, but knocked down a flowerpot (which broke) in the process. Score: Claude 1, me 0.
Let’s try some real sports. Baseball, Claude suggested, with a pencil for a bat. Once again we hit the “what is that pencil supposed to be?” problem. How to make it look like a bat? Other bullet points suggested that I could put the elf “near a pencil” for a balance beam, or use a “pencil as javelin” for track and field events.
Well, I managed to find a sports-themed pencil. I taped her hands to it in what would have looked like a baseball-ish pose, if only the tape had managed to stick to felt. I couldn’t find a way to stand her up, so she played seated. (Maybe her next sport should be goalball, which the kids and I genuinely enjoyed watching during the Paralympics). And I set up her bobblehead husband with a cardboard baseball glove. Claude scores again.
This is all so much work, though. If I go this route I’ll have to make toothpick dumbbells. I’ve heard you can thread floral wire through your elf’s arms and legs to make them poseable, so I’ll be going out for supplies. This was supposed to be easy, Claude!! But Claude can no longer help me. I ran out of free messages. I am on my own now. Time for the elf to take a nap, drive a car, and maybe start some drama with her husband.
