Probably 7, 8 or so. Our kids are nine and ten and still choose to believe, though we have a hell of a backstory. I provided a detailed explanation a few weeks ago of why Santa had to buy some products or pay for the license to make them.
I chose 7 although I may have been 6. Of course I passed along the news to my younger brother. It made my uncle so mad when I told him we no longer believed that he had a telegram sent to the house from Santa. He kept slapping it with the back of his hand asking, “Now do you believe?” and we had to watch the late news where they were tracking Santa’s progress. It was a drunken, maudlin Christmas Eve but in the morning, hey—presents. Mid '50s.
My elder brother explained to me that it was done with helicopters. The toys were built in factories and given out as a promotional exercise by the toy companies. Or maybe I filled in the last part.
He had me going for a week or so, though doubts arose as I lay in bed that evening.
I know I was flabbergasted when my best friend in kindergarten discussed the idea of Santa existing, as I’d never heard of the idea that he didn’t. I also remember one year when I was probably 7 or so and I was waning, but then somehow we got a gift from Santa in our house while we were away, and I didn’t see how my parents could have snuck it in. The next year was when I realized the way they talked about it pretty much guaranteed he didn’t exist, or they wouldn’t be trying so hard.
So I guess 8, because of an assist. But I’m not entirely sure.
It’s easy to figure out if you set it up like a truth table (or something).
Column A is there is a Santa Claus who brings you presents if you’re a good little girl or boy.
Column B is your parents give you presents.
Row 1 is you believe in Santa Claus
Row 2 is you don’t believe in Santa Claus.
Cell A1 is you believe in Santa and Santa brings presents if you’re a good little boy or girl.
Cell B1 is you believe in Santa and your parents give you presents.
Cell A2 is you don’t believe in Santa and Santa might not bring you presents because you don’t believe in him.
Cell B2 is you don’t believe in Santa and your parents give you presents.
Isn’t it baldly apparent that from a viewpoint of simple greed, you maximize your chances of presents by believing in Santa? It’s only logical, right?
There were big plot holes in this Santa thing.
For one thing, Christmas Eve was the one night we were absolutely guaranteed to have a fire in the fireplace.
It was also the one night when somebody was rumored to come down that same chimney and bring gifts. On the one night we were guaranteed to have a fire.
We lived in southern California. Christmas Eve was pretty much the ONLY night we had a fire.
It just didn’t make any sense. Also if things were wrapped, I had seen that wrapping paper before!
I mean, I knew. I’ll say 5.
Like a lot of kids, I went along with it for years figuring otherwise I’d get no presents.
I learned the truth multiple times.
That is, at 7, I had figured out there was no Santa Claus. But that Christmas, Santa (atually one of my uncles) came to our house, so I thought I’d been wrong. At 8, my family finally set me straight for good.
I don’t remember ever believing. It was a fun game. I don’t think my parents put much (if any) effort into encouraging us to believe. My first Christmas memory is being about 4 and noticing that the tags with our names on them were written in my mom’s writing.
I don’t even remember if I really did believe or not (I think I did…probably…). I don’t remember any shocking revelation or anything, like, “that’s the same wrapping paper as the other presents” or, “that’s my mom’s handwriting” or, “that present was in mom’s closet two weeks ago!”. I do remember at some point thinking, “Ha ha, that’s cute, mom still pretends half my presents are from santa. I’ll just play along.” around age 7 or so though, so I must’ve figured it out before then.
She didn’t stop giving me presents “from Santa” until I was 19. Not that she didn’t know that I knew, she just liked to do it.
I never really bought into the idea of a Santa Claus. Just didn’t believe it at all. However, I was thrown into depression when I found out there was no Easter Bunny. I almost failed the 8th grade because of it!!!
I don’t remember either believing in or not believing in Santa. I definitely don’t remember any big moment of realization. It’s possible that as the youngest of six the beans were spilled too early for me to remember, but I think maybe my parents just didn’t make a big deal of the whole Santa idea.
I don’t remember my childhood much at all.
Enjoy it Rick. I can bet this will be the last year.
I was 8 when I figured it out, but mum gave me a pretty convincing story, no doubt so I wouldn’t spoil it for my younger brother. So I hung on for that year, but by next year the cat was out of the bag.
Having grown up in a (nominally) Jewish family, I only gradually became aware that Santa was believed by some kids to be real. We actually did get Christmas presents but there was no pretense that they came from anyone except our parents and one uncle.
We were actually raised with no religious beliefs or practices (although my mother insisted on a bar mitzvah “for the relatives”. It is interesting to note that my parents never said that they were atheists or agnostics; god and religion were never mentioned. I doubt they even gave it a thought. When a school assignment required something from the bible, I discovered we didn’t own one.
I don’t recall. It would have been around the time I found Mom alone in a room and, when asked what she was doing, said “helping Santa.” I think this was before the first big move so I couldn’t have been more than 8½. Still played along after that, though. My first nephew came along a couple years later.
I was 7 when my grandmother told my 5-year-old sister and I, without being prompted, that the real Santa Claus died a long time ago and we give gifts on Christmas to honor his memory. I remember overhearing her tell one of my younger cousins the same thing about 10 years or so later, when he would have been 5-ish.
5 or so, just figured it out somehow. Also the Easter Bunny and Tooth Fairy. But still had to play along (for way longer than reasonable) thanks to a younger sister.
No idea. Just sort of figured it out at some point, probably when I found presents stashed in my parents’ closet.
I don’t remember learning that Santa didn’t exist (at school, I suppose, but i have no idea, really), but I remember the first Christmas season during which I knew he didn’t. My relatives were trying to convince me it did and I was furious that they would unashamedly lie to me. I was 5.
ETA : I also remember believing in him. I sent him a letter the year before, at 4.
This is reason #34,104 for why I probably should never be a parent. If I had children, as soosn as they could even walk I’d take them around to the different malls, point out the different Santas and say: “See? See? Do you honestly think the same guy is running around ahead of us to all the malls? Don’t be a sucker, kid. There ain’t no Santa Claus. It’s me who gives you presents every year. Me! And don’t you ever forget it.”
My kid worked that part out on her own before it even occurred to me. She theorized that Santa sent helpers to do those store jobs, since obviously he would be too busy to do it himself. Both my kids were disconcertingly enthusiastic about Santa belief. I never told them he was real or encouraged it in any way, and there they were, totally believing. The universe enjoys giving parents a hard time.
My oldest had a hilarious experience when she was about 8, where she and her best friend were asking each other “Do you believe in Santa?” “…yeeesss?” They were both trying so hard not to accidentally ruin the other’s Santa fun that they were lying. Neither of them believed.