Santa Claus

I was exhausted yesterday when I got home from work, so I didn’t write on Wednesday’s NaBloPoMo prompt. So, I’m writing on it today. I’m a rebel.

Wednesday’s prompt: What was something you once believe was true but now you know is false? How did you feel when you learned the facts?

Santa Claus. I’d venture to guess that most of us believed in Santa Claus, or similar, when we were children. And, at some point, we learned that Santa Claus was a figurehead, that in reality, the jolly fat man who left presents for us on Christmas was really our parents.

I discovered that Santa Claus didn’t exist on my 6th Christmas. My family would go out to dinner and the Christmas Eve service at church. When we got home, we’d put out cookies and milk for Santa, and my brothers and I would head to bed with visions of sugarplums dancing in our heads. My older brother was 13 years older than I was, and he’d quit believing in Santa long before I was even born, but he played along with the charade for my little brother’s and my sake.

While we were sleeping, “Santa” hauled presents out from hiding places and put them under the Christmas tree, so that my brothers and I would see them the next morning.  Rising early, my little brother and I scampered down the stairs to find a heaping mound of presents left by Santa! It was glorious!

Crawling under the tree, scrabbling through the gifts, there was one for Jeff, one for Bob, another one for Jeff, Jeff, Bob, Jeff, Bob, Bob, Bob, Jeff…… Hey, wait! There aren’t any for me!

By this time, I’m crying, yelling, asking why I didn’t get any presents. I hadn’t been a bad girl. Really. I’d been good all year. Well, except for that time……. But, I digress.

Mom and dad are looking at each other, asking silent questions…Where did you hide her presents? Didn’t you get them? I thought YOU got them.

When mom was doing Santa’s wrapping earlier on Christmas Eve, she’d put my packages in a plastic garbage bag and hidden the bag in the shower. Both my parents had forgotten about it, so they didn’t get put under the tree. I think they tried to get me to believe that Santa had needed a shower and he put my presents in plastic bag so they wouldn’t get wet, and he forgot about the bag.

Yeah, sure, whatever you say.

About Beth

I'm a part-time freelance writer, full-time high school CTE administrative assistant, mother, wife and dreamer. In my free time I enjoy thrifting, reading, crafts, watching movies and spending time with my best friend and love of my life.
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1 Response to Santa Claus

  1. Pingback: Falling behind – Second-week NaBloPoMo roundup | Keeping Track

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