Let's Hear It For Santa!

After watching last week’s ridiculous Christmas-themed episode of Glee, I was left feeling a little funny inside.  No, it’s not because the episode was terrible, it’s because I always feel uncomfortable when television shows (especially kid-friendly shows at 8pm) outrightly talk about how there is no such thing as Santa Claus.  Many viewers across the country were probably watching the episode with their children, and may not have stuck around long enough for that ‘did Bieste or didn’t Bieste give Artie the magical legs that he randomly “can’t use all the time” so they can keep him in a wheelchair’ Christmas miracle moment.

When did you first find out that some creepy bearded guy doesn’t really break into your house every Christmas and leave you toys under a tree?  This blog post would probably be better if I remembered the exact moment that I found out, but I don’t.  I remember that a Jewish friend told me pretty early on, but I swore he was wrong.  I liked the idea of Santa, and that non-believer wasn’t going to ruin it for me.

I also have memories of helping my parents cover up their Santa-lie to my younger brother.  And yet, I still tried to believe in Santa, myself.  My mind was operating with two conflicting realities.  One the one hand I’d try to sound serious when I asked my brother if he had remembered to put cookies out for Santa. And on the other, I was reminding myself to leave carrots for the reindeer.

Alas, my innocence was lost one winter day many years ago when my mother flat out asked me: “You know there’s no such thing as Santa, right?”  “Of course I know,” I replied as my childhood came crashing down around me.  I answered: “Duh, mom.”  Then I jumped in my car and drove away in tears.

Check back at Noon for the 4th in our series of Reader’s Choice Cocky Awards ballots!


9 thoughts on “Let's Hear It For Santa!”

  1. I don’t remember either. I don’t think it was a big deal in our house, there were no elaborate schemes to keep the idea alive. It wasn’t a traumatizing moment when it happened anyway. I wasn’t scarred for life.

    My kid was 6, I’m blaming that Swedish kid in Kindy who informed all the kids it was just pretend. Ooops. We “played” along though for several years and sometimes Santa still brings everyone chocolates or cookies or something like that.

  2. I can’t remember how old I was when I realized that Santa wasn’t real. My parents made a big deal of it so I am pretty sure I was 7 or 8. When we were really young, all that was up on Christmas eve were our stockings and my parents put up the tree, decorated it, and put out all the gifts before we got up….It was really magical.

    I do remember pretending to still believe for my younger brother too. I think it made my parents uncomfortable for a while. In fact, I’m sure there was a period of time where I was pretending I still believed and my younger brother was pretending he still believed, because he thought I still believed. It could make a funny post actually…

  3. I officially stopped believing in Santa in fourth grade, but I think was because I didn’t think about it for a while. Once something brought it to my attention, I processed it for a couple seconds, concluded Santa wasn’t real, and went on with my life with no emotional response. I think I had stop believing for a while but hadn’t consciously been aware of it until then.

  4. This reminds me of my favorite Anne Sexton poem, “Santa”, when Sexton’s daddy dresses up like Santa but one year he’s drunk and ruins everything and the kids are crying because they know Santa isn’t real and drunk Santa just isn’t having it. So sad.

  5. My mom (wisely) told me early in the year, and I remember spending the next 10 months trying to will myself to forget. It was kind of like trying not to think of the word “carrot.” On the “plus” side, I figured out all by myself that no Santa implied no Easter Bunny and no Tooth Fairy.

  6. Dont remember exactly when I figured it out, but I was young. We didn’t have a fireplace or a chimney in the house, and when I asked dad how Santa got in on Christmas Eve, he stammered around for a bit and then just said the front door.

    About the same time, I got to thinking that there’s no way one man could visit every house in the small town I lived in in one night much less in the entire world! And how could there be at one Santa, yet three of them at three different malls/stores in the same afternoon?

    I put all this together I think the same year…right about Kindergarten or so.


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