when i was really young i couldn't sleep on xmas eve, so i walked downstairs... my parents were up, the stockings were stuffed, and a new bike was there waiting for me.
it was 11pm. i figured, whatever, at least i still get presents...
at my house, santa used stickers with a picture of his face on them to sign the gifts he left us. one day i saw the stickers in a kitchen cupboard next to the cereal bowls. then i asked my mom how come santa uses the same gift wrap as she did and why did she have his stickers, and she gave me some song and dance about how he wraps the presents on site. but then i noticed that at my grandma's house, santa's handwriting looked an awful lot like my grandma's...and i put two and two together. i'm pretty sure the handwriting thing was what tipped my mom off as a child and that's why she used stickers for me and my brother.
I was in 2nd or 3rd grade, waiting in line to go to lunch and Sonya something or other said that Santa wasn't real. I asked my mom when I got home and she said it was true. *sob*
My best friend, who was growing up a little faster than I was, said "oh COME ON, Daniel! Do you actually believe a sled pulled by fucking flying reindeer lands on your roof and a fat man slides down your chimney to give you toys?" And no, the f bomb is not an embellishment.
Our house till I was 7 didn't have a chimney or a fireplace. So, when I asked my mom about it, she said Santa figures out a way to come through the front door. I really wanted to believe, but I always kind of knew it wasn't real. My mom was obsessed with door-locking. Someone needs to make a children's book about how Santa gets in when you don't have a chimney. I mean, what about kids that live in condo/apt buildings?
I heard rumors at school, so I came home and asked my parents if Santa was real. They said something really sweet about the spirit of Santa so I wasn't completely crushed.
The "big kids" in the back of the bus were telling all of us first graders that there was no Santa. I cornered my mom as we were driving in our wood paneled station wagon down Maple St and asked her if there was a Santa Claus. Then, in my all my six year old glory I looked at her and said, "Mom, don't lie to me." She asked if I was sure and when I confirmed she told me the truth. Then I shot myself in the foot when I said, "I bet there isn't an Easter bunny or Tooth Fairy, is there?"
My parents used to play elaborate tricks on me to keep me believing in Santa. One year when I was 4 or 5 I was taking a bath and my mom made me open the window in case I might hear Santa.
Well I grew up in the Pocono Mountains of PA and it was damn cold outside, but she insisted. Suddenly I heard sleigh bells and hooves on the roof. (read regular bells and my dad throwing rocks onto the roof).
Then I saw the top of Santa's hat go sprinting past the open window. (also my dad). Then a "Ho Ho Ho" and nothing. My mom tells me he left because I wasn't in bed yet. Needless to say I dried and was in bed in 3 min.
Sadly, that was also the last year I believed in Santa. Shortly after I started school some asshole ruined it for me on the bus. The End.
When I was little, I always avoided the mall santa because I was scared of dudes in costumes. But when I was 6, I decided that I wanted to meet him. So on christmas eve, I went downstairs to chat with him and caught my parents putting a barbie dream house together.
I told my son when he was 3. I mean, I didn't want to stand in that awful line on Rodeo for those damn photos with an overweight alcoholic and those whiny nose-blowing kids. Is he in therapy for it? Yeah. But, life's a b*tch and so am I.
Little shits in Elementary school would tell me. Also, my parents started to get lazy and I noticed price tags on some of the presents. From there, I put 2 and 2 together.
Santa always wrapped our presents in wrapping paper with santas on it (i guess he's a bit of an egomaniac). One time playing hide and seek in the house, I hid in our parents' closet and found the paper.
I got the "spirit of christmas" line from my parents too when I asked about it. They also said, "santa only gives presents to those that believe in him." so, yeah, I never made a big deal about santa being not real. I get stockings and presents from "santa" to this day.
17 comments:
when i was really young i couldn't sleep on xmas eve, so i walked downstairs... my parents were up, the stockings were stuffed, and a new bike was there waiting for me.
it was 11pm. i figured, whatever, at least i still get presents...
wait....waht?!?! no santa claus?
at my house, santa used stickers with a picture of his face on them to sign the gifts he left us. one day i saw the stickers in a kitchen cupboard next to the cereal bowls. then i asked my mom how come santa uses the same gift wrap as she did and why did she have his stickers, and she gave me some song and dance about how he wraps the presents on site. but then i noticed that at my grandma's house, santa's handwriting looked an awful lot like my grandma's...and i put two and two together. i'm pretty sure the handwriting thing was what tipped my mom off as a child and that's why she used stickers for me and my brother.
I was in 2nd or 3rd grade, waiting in line to go to lunch and Sonya something or other said that Santa wasn't real. I asked my mom when I got home and she said it was true. *sob*
My best friend, who was growing up a little faster than I was, said "oh COME ON, Daniel! Do you actually believe a sled pulled by fucking flying reindeer lands on your roof and a fat man slides down your chimney to give you toys?" And no, the f bomb is not an embellishment.
Sarah Cupelli. Enough said.
I think I figured it out. Nobody ever told me as far as I can remember.
Our house till I was 7 didn't have a chimney or a fireplace. So, when I asked my mom about it, she said Santa figures out a way to come through the front door. I really wanted to believe, but I always kind of knew it wasn't real. My mom was obsessed with door-locking. Someone needs to make a children's book about how Santa gets in when you don't have a chimney. I mean, what about kids that live in condo/apt buildings?
I think Pinchie and I have the same mother because our stories are pretty similar.
I heard rumors at school, so I came home and asked my parents if Santa was real. They said something really sweet about the spirit of Santa so I wasn't completely crushed.
The "big kids" in the back of the bus were telling all of us first graders that there was no Santa. I cornered my mom as we were driving in our wood paneled station wagon down Maple St and asked her if there was a Santa Claus. Then, in my all my six year old glory I looked at her and said, "Mom, don't lie to me." She asked if I was sure and when I confirmed she told me the truth. Then I shot myself in the foot when I said, "I bet there isn't an Easter bunny or Tooth Fairy, is there?"
My parents used to play elaborate tricks on me to keep me believing in Santa. One year when I was 4 or 5 I was taking a bath and my mom made me open the window in case I might hear Santa.
Well I grew up in the Pocono Mountains of PA and it was damn cold outside, but she insisted. Suddenly I heard sleigh bells and hooves on the roof. (read regular bells and my dad throwing rocks onto the roof).
Then I saw the top of Santa's hat go sprinting past the open window. (also my dad). Then a "Ho Ho Ho" and nothing. My mom tells me he left because I wasn't in bed yet. Needless to say I dried and was in bed in 3 min.
Sadly, that was also the last year I believed in Santa. Shortly after I started school some asshole ruined it for me on the bus. The End.
When I was little, I always avoided the mall santa because I was scared of dudes in costumes. But when I was 6, I decided that I wanted to meet him. So on christmas eve, I went downstairs to chat with him and caught my parents putting a barbie dream house together.
I told my son when he was 3. I mean, I didn't want to stand in that awful line on Rodeo for those damn photos with an overweight alcoholic and those whiny nose-blowing kids. Is he in therapy for it? Yeah. But, life's a b*tch and so am I.
Little shits in Elementary school would tell me. Also, my parents started to get lazy and I noticed price tags on some of the presents. From there, I put 2 and 2 together.
Santa always wrapped our presents in wrapping paper with santas on it (i guess he's a bit of an egomaniac). One time playing hide and seek in the house, I hid in our parents' closet and found the paper.
I got the "spirit of christmas" line from my parents too when I asked about it. They also said, "santa only gives presents to those that believe in him." so, yeah, I never made a big deal about santa being not real. I get stockings and presents from "santa" to this day.
It was in grade one. I think it was the same girls who later told me about sex. I ran with a fast crowd back then.....
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