I know it’s wrong, but these crack me up every time I hang them on the tree.
Here we have a scantily clad cocktail waitress serving champagne to a man who has passed out after apparently winning a million dollars. Perhaps he was playing a poker slot, because a royal flush graces the top of the scene. Note also the server’s awesome feathered ‘do. Plated in 24-karat gold, this ornament screams class!
Viva La$ Vega$!
I was probably 8 years old when I made this guy over at my grandma’s house one afternoon. He had about 8 friends that I also made, but he’s the only one who has survived the abuse of all of my moves. Some of his “brothers” had yarn hair. Some had nail polish smiles. He has a jaunty mustache. Well, I never really thought much about him until one day in college I unpacked him to put on the tree and I thought, “That mustache makes him look like Hitler.” I know that’s bad, but when I was 8, I didn’t even know who Hitler was. Now I can’t help but think “Hitler Elf” every time I see him. For a while, I used to put him in the back of the tree because I thought everyone would notice the resemblance and think I was some sort of anti-semite, but now I just call him the “Chaplin Elf” or the “Oliver Hardy Elf” if anyone notices. I still think “Hitler Elf.” I know that’s awful. I can’t help it.
Hitler Elf
This fellow is a new edition to the tree this year. He is hand-painted and has a bashful, somewhat embarrassed grin. The first time I saw him, I thought, “Why does he have that expression? It’s like he was caught doing something he shouldn’t.” Then I looked at his hands and realized why he looked that way.
Caught!