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I used to believe that since we didn't have a chimney, Santa would break the window or front door in the house and get his magical elves an yetis to fix it when he left.
When i was about 4 and my sister was 3, we refused to go to bed on Christmas Eve. So, on this paticular Christmas Eve, My sister and I were in our room and our mother was trying to put us to bed. She said that if we were awake, Santa wouldn't come. At that moment, we heard bells and footsteps on the roof. She told us that Santa stopped by to check on us and he would only come back when we fell asleep. We did right away. Little did we know that our father had climbed to the roof to trick us into going to sleep.
My parents house had no open fireplace in the living room, just a gas fire. I used to leave my Santa letter beneath the gas pipe and believed that he could squeeze out from behind the gas fire WITH a sack of presents...
My father told my sister and I one year on Christmas eve that Santa and the reindeer were getting really tired of all of the milk and Christmas cookies that all the nice girls and boys left him and that what Santa would REALLY like was just a beer and a salami sandwich.
Did we leave it for him? You bet!
Look for my dad's story about the children in China above!
i used to believe that santa and my parents were good friends who talked all the time. this is cause when i was bad one day, my father called up my uncle and told him to tell me on the phone that he was santa, and that i wouldn't get any presents if i didn't stop being bad. so "santa" told me i was bad and had to behave myself, and then i cried not knowing it was my uncle until years later
When I was 3/4 I thought that Father Christmas came in and gave you prestenst and tucked you in to bed on Christmas. I was afraid of the fat guy with a red nose coming into my room! I always slept in my parents room on Christmas.
When I was young, I use to believe in Father Chrismas. I always thought he was true. I left cookies and milk every Christmas eve and the next morning, the cookies and milk will always be gone.and the tree will be FULL of presents.
But one year it changed, My dad took his boots and put them in the ashes to make tracks so it looked like Santa came. My mom got so mad. She yelled at him and i over herd and they explained to me that sants not real...... How stupid of me to believe that!.!.!.!.!.!.
I'll admit to this but i actually believed in Santa Claus until I was 11 i think. Every christmas i would get excited becuase I thought santa would be given me christmas presents as my parents would always say. I would write to him saying what i wanted and my parents would write back saying if he could get them or not. My name would also be put down at the end and i was happy that he knew my name. We always put mince pies for him to eat and milk for his raindeers to drink. Sometimes a note would be there for us apparently from Santa thanking him for the mince pies and milk. I was happy back then as i thought it was Santa thanking us. Then one christmas, my mother spoiled the fun when she told me Santa wasnt real. How she upset me that day!
I always used to wounder why Santa always used to use the same wrapping paper to wrap up the presents, as the one left on the side. When i asked my brother this, he told me that Santa wraps up everyone's present in the house and not in his factory as he didnt have enough wrapping paper to go around the world. I believed this but was disappointed that Santa did not use his own wrapping paper as the one left on the size was abit boring for a 5 year old, it was plain gold and borin!
I used to believe that the day after christmas if you did not like and appreciate your toys from Santa he would come back and take them away.
When I found out that santa wasnt real (I was about 8) I pretended that I still beleived in him because I thought my mum would get upset. -._.-
I got very confused when I was young. I never understood how on Thanksgiving Day Santa Clause could be at all of those parades at the exact same time, on t.v.
I believed in santa until I was 8, then I realized all the "Santa" presents were in my parents' shopping bags. They thought I believed till I was 11 XD
I used to believe in Santa Clause and my mum was so good at convincing me that I believed it till I was 12. When she finally told me that Santa wasnt real I had the cheek to refute it because the milk and cookies were always gone on Christmas morning.
Like most children, I beleived in Santa when i was little. I believed really hard and I vividly remember one christmas eve being determined to stay up all night so that i could see Santa. I sat at my window for what seemed like ages, looking out on the frosty starry night. Then my heart skipped a beat. I heard slay bells and I thought I'd better get in to bed and pretend I was asleep, quick smart, thinking that if Santa saw me spying him - he'd be annoyed with me. So i snuggled down and brought the covers up and did that thing when you pretend to have your eys closed but they are atually open a little bit. I waited and watched and then the next thing I woke up and it was Christmas. There was my stocking filled with goodies - but I had missed him! I was a bit gutted. A few years later I was telling my mum how excited i'd been and how I really did think I had heard slay bells... she said "You did!" and went in to a cupboard and started raking about and produced a red leather strap thing with a bunch of little bells on it and gave it a wee shake.
Originally, I thought that Santa was an ok guy. But that changed when I got a little older. We would always go to my grandparent's house for Christmas. We would go to bed on Christmas Eve, and wake up on Christmas morning to find that Santa had left us presents. One year, when I was old enough to start reasoning, I asked my parents, "But how does Santa get inside to leave presents? Grandma and Grandpa don't have a chimney and fireplace?" My parents answered, "Well, he probably comes through the door, or a window."
He comes through a door or window? At night? While we're sleeping? Sounds like a criminal to me. Just like that, my idea of a jolly, generous, old, cookie-loving man was erased and replaced with a cold, hardened criminal who enjoyed breaking and entering.
I cried and cried until my parents told me he wasn't real. A rush of relief flooded over me. I went to bed happy, knowing that Santa wouldn't be breaking in anytime soon, but I would still be getting my presents.
I used to beleive that Santa stole all the presents and candy on christmas eve and that we went to bed early on christmas eve so that noone would see him stealing the presents.
I used to believe in Father Christmas unconditionally after my dad dressed up in a Santa Claus outfit and rendered my sister and I speechless. Imagine my dismay when, many years later but still convinced, I picked a bag out of the boot of his car that made bell-like noises and nosily looked inside. Gutted.
When we were kids my sister and I used to leave a mince pie and a glass of milk next to the tree for Santa. As we got older it became a mince pie and a beer .... I wonder if my dad had anything to do with that.
When I was little, I thought Santa lived on the moon