Never Question Magic

What I learned today is that you can't question magic. We've had our Elf On The Shelf out for a couple of days now, and I've been studying him. He doesn't move. We can't touch him. He watches us all day, seeing if we're good or bad. Then he flies back to the North Pole every night to report back to Santa, and then he comes back before we awake in a completely different place.

If I were someone more worldly, I'd say something is suspicious. After all, relying on magic to explain stuff like this seems like a cop out.

But some things are indeed unexplainable, like magic and monsters who live under the bed and odorless farts and magnets.

So since I'm fresh out of the womb, I've got no questions. I'm all in. I totally believe. And so does Wyatt. He's got more life experiences than I do, so he's a bit streetwise, and he's all about this. We're completely hooked and determined to be good boys. After all, we don't want Santa to give us the shaft this year. And I have a feeling that our little Elf friend here is a bit of a snitch.

You ain't a snitch, Elf, are you?

Wait. Where are you? You were here yesterday.

Dammit. This is difficult.