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My dad made Christmas awesome when I was little. One year when I was sleeping, he took some bells and scattered them around the yard and-get this-that same year he took a brownie and molded it to look like poop and on Christmas morning he took me out to the yard to show me it and told me it was reindeer poop and the bells fell off of Santa's sleigh.
And, on the other the side of his Christmas fun, he always would have my mom and i make his favorite kind of cookie to give to Santa because he thought it was an excuse for us to make him cookies!
december, my mother would tell me that "Christmas is right around the corner". Until christmas arrived, every day I would run down to the end of our street to see if santa was coming with the toys.
In order to stop me staying up on Christmas eve, my father used to tell me Father Christmas was an evil tramp who controlled a bunch of equally nasty dwarves. Small boys were known to have been blinded for life by simply glimpsing their hideousness.
As Christmas approached, whenever I misbehaved, my Mom used to pick up the phone to call Santa and rat me out that I belonged on the "naughty list." I'd beg and plead for her not to make that call, and it always straightened me out for at least a few days.
When I was 7 or 8 years old, I was riding with my parents along a street in our small town. Lo and behold, there was Santa walking with a bag of goodies! My dad pulled the car alongside, and Santa jovially wished us "Merry Christmas" and presented me with a Hershey bar. I was agog that, first of all, we'd encountered Santa during a casual Saturday afternoon outing and, secondly, that my parents obviously were well acquainted with him, as they chatted in a most familiar manner. As we pulled away, I commented that Santa had been wearing a ring "just like Uncle Elmer's!" "Are you sure?" my mother said doubtfully, throwing me off the scent. It wasn't until a few years later I realized I'd been had!
My mum used to get us to write to Father Christmas on Christmas eve each year and leave the letter out with the mince pie, carrot etc. Each year he'd reply with writting strangly similar to mums, one year though we got a reply in hand we didn't recognise and I was torn between my definate knowledge that there was no father christmas, and the undeniable fact that mum hadn't written the letter.....I was 10!! Sad huh?
One christmas I had a HUGE list for santa. And the contents weren't that cheap, either. So my dad told me to pick just one to which I scolded him, "Don't worry, daddy. They're from Santa! It's FREE!" Yeah, I didn't know the value of a dollar back then.
When I was little, I asked my mom where the Easter Bunny got all the plastic eggs with money in them that he hid in our house. She said that she bought the eggs and left them and some money in the middle of the living room floor, and then when everyone was asleep, the Easter Bunny came and put the money in the eggs and hid them. This answer made perfect sense and I accepted it with no problem.
Later on, I wanted to know where Santa Claus got all the brand-name toys he gave us, because I was sure he couldn't make them at his tinkertoy workshop. I remembered what my mom said about the Easter Bunny and came up with the idea that a few weeks before Christmas, the employees of all the big toy stores would leave out huge piles of toys in the middle of the floor, shut off the lights, and either go in the back room or go home. Then when the coast was clear, Santa would sneak in through the store's ventilation system, wrap up all the toys he needed, and take them back outside in his sack. I thought it was very nice of the toy store people to respect Santa's privacy and help make his job easier like that.
When I was little I used to believe that if our family was out visiting on Christmas Eve too late, and came home and interrupted Santa while he was bringing presents, Santa would never come back to our house again. And Santa visited on the stroke of midnight so you had to all be in bed by then. So I was always in a state of high anxiety on Christmas Eve when we were forced to stay at our boring cousins' house until 11:30 p.m. We would never get home in time!! Stupid grownups!!
Also, I believed Santa needed a chimney to come down. This was never a problem because my mom would always put up a fake cardboard chimney decoration in the living room. I knew very well it wasn't a real chimney and didn't lead anywhere, but I believed Santa could use it.
As a kid I had a back up plan at Christmas, if Santa thought I had been bad and didn't bring me any gifts I had it planned that I would simply set out all my toys that I already had and just act surprised. For some reason I thought my parents would fall for it if it actually came down to that. I have no reason why I actually ever came up with this because I was a really good kid!
I used to believe Santa Claus was Santa CLAWS, and that he was going to attack me on Christmas Eve. I always locked my door to try to keep him out.
I used to believe that my mom had Santa's phone number. Everytime i heard here on the phone around christmas, I would have a little internal freak-out that Santa would bring me coal
On Christmas Eve, I used to lay out some carrots with Santa's milk and cookies so the reindeer could have something to eat, too. I just didn't think it was fair that the reindeer did all the work and then didn't get any food for themselves.
I used to believe that Santa Claus lived on the moon in a city called North Pole. I thought that if you looked at the moon the right way you could see him watching you....
I used to believe that Father Christmas's elves would come and tickle your toes at night if you where naughty.
I used to believe that Father Christmas lived up my granddad's chimney, after Granddad held a candel stick up there and I never saw it again
I am the youngest of four kids and I guess my Mom was getting tired of the holiday gift giving thing so when the opportunity came up to burst the bubble on the Easter Bunny, she was happy to stop having to give out the Easter Baskets. The same happened with Saint Nicholas' gift giving a few weeks before Christmas. To me this meant the death knoll for Santa Clause and the almighty gift giving he enabled so I remember my thinking I would never, ever admit to not believing in Santa. That led to my Mom finally coming out and asking me at 15 that I really didn't still believe did I? Oh yes, of course I did I lied.
When I was a kid, I was told about Santa Clause like most young children. The difference is that when Santa was in your house delivering toys, if you were awake and tried to take a peek at santa that he would spit in your eyes. The spit would make you blind until he would leave if not for life.
When I was about 8, I noticed in the holiday books that Santa Claus was fat, so on the next Christmas, I left him fat free cookies.
When I was a young child, I want to test if Santa really exists, so send a letter asking for my present a ride with him in the christmas day. Later, I realized that I would have to wait one entire year to get a real present just because I was wanting to test something that must be true, so I wrote another letter cancelling the ride and asking a Super Nintendo