Payton, the Christmas Bunny

I know that you’ve long loved Elf on the Shelf. It’s been in the family for generations! Well, at least since 2004, which in the internet age may as well be 300 years ago. But the children look forward to it staring lifelessly at them, perching menacingly on the cupboard, watching their every move. Seeing when they’re sleeping. Knowing when they’re awake. Judging accordingly.

But come on. That kind of pressure just doesn’t work with the modern family! We’re long past having an all-knowing creature weigh our every move and find it wanting. Our Instagrams, Pinterests, and Facebooks tell us that our ‘lil woogums are perfect just the way they are, because everyone else’s woogums are equally perfect. What we need is a mascot for the Christmas/Holidays that suits our needs as ever-anxious, ever-externally-motivated modern Americans.

Introducing your new holiday obsession: Payton the Santa Bunny!

I know, it’s a lot to take in. Let’s start with reading this book by its cover (but not judging - Payton would not approve). First, this bunny of joy is not hung up on the perfect elf frock or Christmas-themed sweater. He bought himself a dingy sweatshirt at the Value Village a few years back, and it’s been through as much as he has. Sure, it smells like the failure of a former mall Santa Claus and probably spent a few years stuffed in a moldy box in a wood-paneled basement that reeked of smoke and old high-school third-place football trophies.

But it’s real. He’s not taking the time to get some custom-made suit just to use it once a year. No one needs that. His girlfriend, Thumperlina, who works down at the Cinnabun(ny), would love him to dress up a little more cleanly, but she accepts him for what he is, and she’s secretly grown fond of the soft comfort of his worn-down sweatshirts, stealing a few for herself. Their life is good enough for now. As long as he proposes soon.

Payton’s real pride and joy is his truck. It’s no sleigh, but it sure as hell ain’t no Nissan Leaf either. It’s 2.5 tons of raw American muscle, lifted as high as it can get without tipping over in a moderate breeze. Underneath it all, Payton is a more reserved young bunny, so he doesn’t adorn his chariot with the typical Calvin-peeing-on-Ford/Chevy-type stickers. He wanted a diesel, but he had to settle for the V-8 gas burner. Life is full of disappointments.

He’s not a mean bunny, or a thoughtless bunny. He’s just a bunny that had a hard time in Carrot-stry in high school. He doesn’t like to read books - not that he’s dumb, but it’s just so much easier to play Call of Duty: Black Hops 6 every night when he gets home, dead tired from his job at the feed store. His favorite beer is an IPA. Because of the hops.

That’s the best thing about adopting Payton as your new Christmas fad - he’s going to let you feel just the way you want to feel, and celebrate where you’re at, not where you feel you need to be. He’s not a judgmental elf. He’s just a stuffed bunny that can sit under your tree, with his little toy truck. He won’t remind you of smart but judgmental teachers from high school, or that aunt that keeps telling you about her kids who are working off on the East Coast in the law or medical fields.

So buy him today - only $19.99! - and plop him under your tree. Or anywhere, really. I don’t care. I’m inspired by Payton. I won’t judge.

Merry Christmas!