So when did you find out Santa was not real, and how did you find out?

I found out when I got my Houston Oiler bike for Christmas. I know Santa would never cuss like that and why would he need to get into my Dad's tool chest. My dad was having hell getting the handle bars on and he was cussing a blue streak down in the living room.

It was for damn sure far from 'traumatizing'. :eyes:

It's so obvious.

You're a loony.

At least I'm not living a lie.

:P

My parents would wrap all our gifts the night before. Just the crinkling of the paper gave me a clue that my parents were Santa Claus. It was just fine with me.

They put the toys out like Santa had set them up that way. Santa did not wrap gifts in our house.

I learned it from the OP. I am shocked !

But yes Virginia there is no Santa Claus.

:cry:

If Jim Henson dies, I don't want to know. Just remember that.

I wanted an American Girl doll for Christmas this year, and that is what I got. However my dad left a letter to my grandmother on the fridge saying that we were getting the AG dolls and to get us outfits for them. I saw the letter, and Santa brought us the dolls.

I was running a fever of about 104, coughing, aching--it was probably the flu, although I didn't go to the doctor. Anyway, I was having a lot of trouble getting to sleep that night because I couldn't stop coughing. Mom heard me, and came and got me out of bed and brought me out to the living room. She very gently explained that Santa was actually Mom and Dad, and that since I wasn't feeling well, she was going to let me have a bit of a treat. She gave me my "big" present early--a white rabbit that I promptly named "Princess" and loved until the day she died of old age. I also got to help wrap up and arrange the presents for my younger brother and sister.

My brother and sister found out in a rather traumatic way; we still refer to it as the infamous incident when "Santa slept in." They ran out to the living room on Christmas morning, and found...nothing. Two sobbing little kids woke up Mom and Dad, who cursed a lot and herded us all back to bed (even though it was daylight already) because Santa had "slept in" and was "running behind." Much additional cursing and package-shuffling ensued, and we were called back out about fifteen minutes later. Unfortunately, nobody was fooled, and after that, they didn't pretend about Santa anymore. Heh heh. Mom STILL blushes whenever we mention that particular Christmas!

:rofl:


No he was building his CapitolOne credit card.

:cry:

There is a Democrat entering the White House.

I basically forced a confession out of my parents. Too many things didn't add up.

One year Dad took his boots and put them in the ash of the fire place and walked around the tree and to the cookie plate.

I think my oldest (22!) still secretly believes.:rofl:

It is all apart of that magic. I love Christmas time.

What was bad about being so young and a natural skeptic, I had 2 younger sisters and had to keep my mouth zipped. I did. My sister was the smart one - all the way through high school she swore up and down that she believed Santa existed. Mom and Dad believed her and she got all the goodies.

I remember sitting in the living room on Christmas Eve, talking to my dad. At one point, he said to me, "You know there's no Santa Claus, right?" And I said something to the effect of, "Yeah, I sort of thought there wasn't." I had figured it out for myself, and just accepted it. No trauma; it was just part of growing up.

Dad did ask me not to tell my little sister, tho'. It was actualy kind of fun pretending for my sister, seeing her still getting excited over Santa.

I went looking for my presents, I found them in a locked cupboard (yes, I picked the lock at 10 years old)

When I got those presents from Santa, I knew the truth.
I wasn't mad at my mom, I wasn't traumatized.

But I never went looking for my presents again.

I just waited for Christmas Morning.

Dad was having a hell of a time trying to get my bike together. He was a truck driver and before that. a sailor, so to say the least, the conversation he was having with the bike was quite "colorful". :D

that is a good word for it. I don't think Santa would use the f word.

My idiot cousin Bruce, who was the same age as me, jeered at me when I said something about Santa Claus. He said "That's stupid, there's no Santa Claus. It's your Mom and Dad." I immediately went running to my Mom to ask her if it was true. She very gently told me that it was true. It was still very upsetting, perhaps more because of the way that I learned about it, than just the overall realization. I remember crying off and on about it for a few hours.

This same idiot cousin Bruce is the one who pulled a chair out from under me as I was sitting down, when I was around 12. I sat down very hard on a linoleum floor, and bruised my tailbone. I was in terrible pain for nearly a month.

Jerk.

I had a cousin like that, until the day I got bigger than him and kicked his little ass.

Oh, wait. That wasn't the day that *I* found out, that's the day I gave the truth to that kid dying from cancer.

Nevermind.

So I disguised my handwriting with my kids. bwahahahhahaha

It will be great.

Hehe.

I've always slept light and was a pain in the ass terrorist child.

I remember never letting anyone know though. That way I could scam more cool stuff.

:hi:

And I loved christmas. I still love christmas. Even though working retail for 3 years nearly killed it.

The thing I worry about most for those that work retail is the constant barrage of repeated songs.

I actually like Christmas Music, but can see that going away if I spent my days listening to it.

:)

It does not bother me. I am listening to Pandoras Classical Christmas right now.

and went on to explain the birds and the bees to me.
He had Hustler mags to prove it...

I noticed in the pictures of expeditions to the NP that were in our textbook, Santa's workshop wasn't in the photos. I put two and two together then and there. School sucks.

People would never leave him alone.

He was wearing a plastic suit, and I said "Santa doesn't dress like that". My dad didn't say anything until after the Santa part of it was over. He pointed to a guy who was sitting in the back row and said "See that guy? He's Santa tonight, but I'm Santa on Christmas Eve". I was about 8 at the time.

One guy , in our town even went as far to have the real white beard and everything. He wore a long red coat and sash and the whole nine yards. He was an awesome Santa.

my sister said she'd kick my ass if I told my Mom
that she had told me the truth! She's still a bitch! :P

There was a grieving period?

a bike that had a tag "From Santa"... I was frigging happy!

I think I let on after Christmas that year... it was a very long time ago. ;)

But it really didn't matter. My Mom still gave us stuff "From Santa"

and gave each of us a stocking each year well into our teens. She was very sweet!

I had to admit that Santa had a potty mouth.

I didn't believe him then either.

so, I'm sure it was not traumatic or anything.

talking about how Santa was a fake....

I only lived 6 blocks away in elementary and only half a block in Junior High. High School, I drove to school.