Who Mixed Up the Presents?

What Happens

Somebody swapped every name tag in the house on Christmas Eve, and the six elves who were in the workshop are all standing there saying it was not them. One of them also hid a present, and will not say where until they are caught.

Four clues, and each one is a different person's job. A green thread caught in a knot, for the youngest, who only has to match a color. A note from a reindeer written in code, for seven to nine. The workshop timetable, for ten and up, who work out which elf has nobody to vouch for them. And a note written against a window, which reads as nonsense until a grown-up holds it up to a mirror.

Nobody solves this one on their own. Each clue crosses off one or two elves and no more. Take any single clue away and two suspects survive, so the six year old's color match matters exactly as much as the timetable. The family finishes it together or not at all, which is the part that does not happen in a mystery written for one clever child.

Six suspects, and the evidence is all on their cards. Bramble in the wrapping room with glitter to his elbows. Tinsel, head to toe in red. Sprout, who washes his hands the moment a job is done. Marzipan and Pip, who were both in the kitchen and can say so. Read the cards out, cross the elves off the tag board, and name the one who is left.

The ending is a present, not a page. When they name the elf, you hand over the confession, and it says where the hidden present is, in your own handwriting, because you chose the place.

Thirteen pages on plain paper, ten minutes of setup: print, cut out ten cards, hide one present. With a letter from the North Pole to start it, a tag board to work on, and a certificate for whoever says the name first.

For two to eight players, six and up, in about an hour. Every age gets a moment where the room waits for them.