i never had imaginary friends

There must be elves in my house, left over from Christmas. Santa must have dropped then off, even though he left nothing else behind here, especially presents. There just have to be elves here and they only come out at night when I’m sleeping or during the day when I’m at work. They must know exactly the moment I awake or open the door and they scatter, scatter like the wind. Why they are here I don’t know, but I know what they are doing. They are sewing the seams of my pants tighter. They are jumping on top of me when I stand on the scales. They are evil elves, defunct AWALs who couldn’t hack it with the big man at the pole. They suck. And I’m sure it’s elves, because it couldn’t possibly be the red velvet cake, mary alice cookies, noel nut balls, cheese ring and crackers, holiday wrapped candies, sausage, biscuits, eggs, pork tenderloin, grits, apple pie, wine, beer, potato salad, sausage gravy, more biscuits, peppermint mochas, eggnog lattes, eggnog ice cream and just plain eggnog that I ate during the month of December. I let December be a free month and now I live with elves. Elves stink and I’m hoping that January and the gym kicks their bottoms, but first, I think I have to get my bottom up. Darn it all to elves.