My parents were brillant at the Santa thing. They used different wrapping papers, and even had one parent write the tags for santa presents and the other write the tags on presents “from them.” once I started reading. Alas, my Dad’s sister ruined everything when I was seven.
I was happy that christmas that I’d gotten a (2nd) cabbage patch kid, and my then 1-year-old brother had even gotten a boy one. For some reason I thought that was pretty neat. Right after Christmas we visited my aunt and my then 11-year old cousin. My mom and aunt decided to take the three of us for a walk. While we were walking, me and my cousin bringing up the rear, my aunt turns to my mother and says " Did you get the boy cabbage patch for Vince like you wanted?" and mom said yes. The dolls were Santa presents! Devestation naturally ensued, and, being the logical child I was, I immediately made the assumption that the whole easter bunny and tooth fairy stuff must have been BS too.
I wonder why so many kids don’t tell their parents that they know? I suppose it’s a combination of wanting to try to believe a little longer(if I don’t admit it, maybe, possibly it’s not true,) and not wanting to ruin it for the parents. I didn’t tell, and my mom decided to break the news to me when I was 10. So I told her then that I’d figured it out three years earlier. I was, of course, sworn to secrecy, so my brother wouldn’t know. He believed until he was 10 or so, I think. Now we think it’s funny that we each get a present from “Santa” every year. Last year santa brought me a giftcard for B&N, very nice of him
Oh, finding out that santa isn’t real hurts, but…Santa makes christmas a magical thing, I can’t imagine missing out on something like that. If I were a parent, I’d encourage the belief. The joy of it outweighs the pain of it ending.
I don’t really recall when I learned this, I think my older brother probably told me. Halloween was always my favorite holiday anyway, and I still believe in the Great Pumpkin. Now that we have our own children, and since we don’t really practice a religion, Mrs. ShibbOleth and I have debated how to handle it (she grew up without Christmas as a child). We decided that Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny were fun, harmless cultural accoutrements.
The Olethlings[sup]TM[/sup] love the presents and candies, but we try not to over do it. When we lived in Germany one of our neighbors anonymously left St. Nicholas day gifts on our doorstep, and since then we have added that as a customary holiday as well. So we will stick with this, I think. Now that we have moved into a neighborhood with a large number of Jewish neighbors, it will be interesting to see how long they can remain “believers”. As FisherQueen noted, greed can be a powerful motivator. Anyway, they already know a lot of things are “just pretend”, like monsters on televion, but they enjoy them anyway.
First, some background on why I believed in Santa longer than other kids:
When I was a kid, my uncle and grandma used to take us up to the local tavern every so often (don’t ask). Every year, the tavern had a Christmas party for all the neighborhood kids. They always had Santa there. This Santa, as opposed to most Santas, knew my name without asking and also usually knew what I wanted. He knew things about my family and friends, so I figured he must be the real Santa. All the other kids knew Santa wasn’t real, but I knew he was, since I had met the real Santa.
Then when I was about eight or nine, my grandma and mom were looking through photos from that year’s party. They got up to go to the other room, and I checked out the pictures. Sure enough, there was Santa, pulling off her beard to drink a beer. Yes, that isn’t a typo…Santa was female. She was Mary Lou the bartender. I was devestated, but I pretended for at least another year to make sure I still got presents. Then one day, the guilt got to me and I confessed to my mother that I knew the truth.
I don’t remember having a big revelation about the Easter Bunny or Tooth Fairy. I just finally realized that if Santa wasn’t real, they probably weren’t either.
As long as the post is this long already, I’ll add my friend’s story about Santa. She was about four years old, walking through the mall with her mom. She kept asking why rich kids get more stuff than poor kids for Christmas, since that didn’t seem fair to her. Her mom stumbled through some lame explanations, but Lisa would not accept any of them. Finally her mom just snapped, “Oh, Lisa, there is no Santa!”
you know, i don’t remember any heartbreaking moment where i woke up and saw santa stumble out of my parents room with a handful of presents and a nightgown, i just kind of figured out (at age 8 or so) that it really was impossible, but i just played along. not so much denying it or telling my parents i believed in them, just make believe. in fact, i remember my parents asking me about santa claus, and i just told them i knew he was make believe, but it was a hell of a lot more fun that way. however, the years that i did believe, my mom was a master at santa clause. i never saw any wrapping paper, and bows, and presents, any boxes, nothing. my house remained the same until i woke up christmas morning.
I was 8, I think. It was Easter morning and I had gotten my first pair of roller skates and a boatload of candy. I went out to the livingroom to watch TV and eat the candy when I saw it…
The big huge Kmart bag hidden behind one of the easy chairs.
I knew in an instant there was no Easter Bunny. Santa Claus et al. followed suit.
I have to hand it to my mom though. When I confronted her, she was honest about it.
There was no easter bunny in my childhood mythology. I mean really, it’s stupid. A gian bunny… with big sharp pointy teeth! He’ll do you a treat mate! Sorry, drifted off there. Saw the re-release of MP&tHG two weeks ago. Santa was a bit more nebulous. We always opened presents Christmas eve so I knew that mom and dad and relatives gave them but there was always a big “Santa Claus” present Christms morning. I knew mom and dad bought presents but the preposterous notion that they could acutally hide a Marvel the Mustang? from me and get up in the middle of the night undetected to place it by the tree kept me believing in Santa.
I was an incredibly gullible kid [sup]well, not just a kid, but as a kid I WAS incredibly gullible, even more so than I am now…AHem. ANYWAY[/sup].
I have to say I persisted in believing in Santa Claus until I was 8. Even though my older sister had been telling me since I was about 6 that there was no Santa Claus.
Faith is a beautiful thing, people. And actually, I persisted even when I had doubts, cause I had a really rough year the year I turned 8, and basically fooled myself a lot longer than reason would believe.
And it didn’t help that my Dad was a very convincing fabulist. Easter when I was 5, they accidentally dropped and broke one of the big chocklit bunnies which were the essential centerpiece of the easter bunny nest. (we didn’t have baskets. We made nests made from some clean clothes and lined with easter grass. Cause who heard of anything laying eggs in baskets? Sheesh, we watched National Geographic, made sense to us…)
So, since I was, um, gullible. I got the broken bunny.
And a handwritten note, in large straggly letters and smeared with the occasional chocolate bunny footprint [sup]well, it’s hard to write with paws![/sup] FROM THE EASTER BUNNY HIMSELF about how he’d had a close call with a big truck while he was hippety-hoppiting to my house, but, don’t worry, HE was okay, and he was really sorry that my bunny was broken.
I tortured my big sister for the rest of the day with the fact that I had an actual note from the Easter Bunny himself.
I don’t recall ever really believing in SC/EB/TF et al. I have a much older sister. These two things are definitely related; there was no chance on this earth my sister could pretend or keep the secret from me. She told me there weren’t any such creatures as soon as I could understand the words - before my parents even got around to telling me there were.
I wonder if younger children grow up to be skeptics more than oldest children or only children?
That’s actually a “Deep Thoughts by Jack Handy” from Saturday Night Live.
Wow looks like age 6, 7 or 8 are the big years for finding out. I’ve often wondered how children are able to maintain belief in this modern age. Not ust Gremlins but Calvin and Hobbes showed that Mom and Dad brought the presents not Santa I’m sure many many other outlets reveal it.
