Believe it or not, the Elf wasn’t born in a boardroom. It came from a family named Bell. Carol Aebersold and her daughter Chanda Bell had a little elf friend at home for years.
The story goes that an elf just appeared in their house one day. He wasn’t a toy; he was a scout. His job? Report back to Santa every night about who was naughty or nice.
Carol’s kids lived for it. They’d wake up and find the elf in a new spot—maybe hanging from the ceiling fan, maybe eating a marshmallow. Pure chaos. Pure joy.