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The Day I Found Out About Santa Claus

It was a sweltering January day like any other, in the Orange City Centre undercover car park. I had just stepped out of the vehicle when mum decided she wasn’t properly between the lines, so she readjusted the park and promptly ran over my foot.

Perhaps it was the dull throb of pain or the tyre mark on my shoe that put me in a particularly vicious mood. “Hey Mum. Is Santa real?”

“Of course he’s real!”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure.”

“Then why was there Angus and Robertson price tags on those books he gave me?”

“Even Santa has to go to the shops sometimes!”

“You lie!”

“Look. Don’t tell your sister!”

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About Shauna Reid

Ahoy there! I’m an author, copywriter and old school blogger. I love telling stories about life and helping my clients to tell theirs. Find out more about me and how we can work together.


12 thoughts on “The Day I Found Out About Santa Claus

  1. i’ve never forgiven my parents for that deception. i think it’s the cruelest thing to do to children – how are they supposed to trust you when you’ve been lying to them all along?

  2. My parents never allowed me to believe in Santa. (That sounds wrong. It wasn’t like: “No, Bad, Stop that!” *smack*, it was just that I never got any presents from Santa, and he was never really mentioned.) So I had no big ‘revealing’ moment. I just… always knew.

  3. Heh. I think one year they made a bit deal about one year being my oldest brothers’ last visit from Santa, so he got extra stuff. But I got bored with the charade the same year, so after that Santa never came again. 🙂

  4. Ha!

    I was told by a grade six kid as I was walking to school at the tender age of five, but the real clincher was the year after, when I went into my parent’s room to say goodnight … or something, and saw them sitting up in bed, presents next to them that *we received ourselves from Santa the very next day*. Oh, the horror!

  5. Yeah, when I found out about Santa, I was in kindergarten, and I told Mom I didn’t think Santa was real. She said I was right. But see, my parents never told me he existed to begin with. Presents were always to me or my sister, never from anyone, and Mom’s writing and Santa’s were eerily similar. The signs were all there, man.

  6. I had this discussion with my roommate the other day: should kids be taught about Santa? He argues, “Kids need Santa.” Me, I’m not so sure.

  7. I love the whole santa debate. I’m gonna tell my kids that it’s an old tale handed down from generateion to generation, and that maybe a long time ago he really did exist, but now we just recreate the magic of Santa each year.

  8. Heh. Everyone’s stories are so different. I was five and visiting the next door neighbors’ house; the kids were in jr. high and/or high school. I came home and promptly asked my mom why they already had presents under their tree from Santa, when it was still a week til Christmas.

    I imagine my mom had a moment of wishing she hadn’t taught me to read when I was three. But she just smiled and ‘fessed up. Ahhhh, youth.

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