I was reading All American Monkeys post today and it made me think about the year I found out there was no Santa. That year was without a doubt the worst Christmas I can remember (I know the year before was worse but I have blocked that time period out).
It was the Christmas of 1987 and I was a mere 6 years old. The year before in December my father passed away so my mom had absolutely no Christmas spirit that year which is completely understandable but it sucked for us. I don't think we got our tree up until the week before Christmas and there were no presents under the tree to shake and make guess at until a few days before Christmas. I'm not sure about all of you but for my siblings and I this was a big deal.
Finally Christmas Eve arrived and as always we went out to my dad's family to celebrate with them. On the way home Mom was a little more herself and drove us around town to look at Christmas lights then it was home and off to bed for us kids. A tradition in my family for as long as I can remember was that Steph, Nick, and I would always sleep together in the same room and usually the same bed. That year it was in my room which happen to be the first bedroom in the hallway off the living room and across from the bathroom.
Sometime in the early morning hours (I've been told it was around 3am) I woke up and had to go to the bathroom. After some consideration as to whether or not Santa would be mad at me for getting out of bed, i did. I figured it was better to have him made at me then to wet the bed. As I was walking across the hallway to the bathroom I caught something out of the corner of my eye which made me turn.
That was a BIG BIG BIG mistake on my part. See what caught my eye was my mom sitting on the floor putting together the Barbie Doll Dream House for my sister and I. Of course I gasp, maybe even screamed a little which caused my mom to jump and turn around. She tried to give me some line about how Santa doesn't have time to stay and put all the toys together so the parents have to. Looking back I am very impressed that my mom thought of that so quickly but I wasn't buying it. I was so angry that there was no such thing as Santa, and even more angry because I felt like my mom had lied to me. Finally after 5 minutes of her trying to convince me she gave up and made me swear on my life not to ever tell Steph or Nick.
After that I went back to bed and did not want to get up when Steph and Nick woke up but I did for them. I put on the fake smile and excitement as I opened up my Santa presents but inside I just wanted to scream. If I had not had to go to the bathroom that morning I really think it would have been my best Christmas ever because mom got us everything on our list that year even my Fisher Price Kitchen Set.
Of course even knowing how I reacted to the truth about Santa I still pretend that their is a Santa for my kids because I eventually got over the anger and realized that the magic of Santa for little kids is worth the few moments of anger.