I Used To Believe newsletter: December 2012
We can hardly believe it but it's been 10 years since we sent our first newsletter! That was also a collection of Christmas beliefs; you can read more beliefs about Santa on the website.
Happy holidays, hope you've all been good!
I've never been scared of thunder or lightning until the day my mother told me it was Santa's elves hammering toys together.
When I was young I believed that Christmas was the last day of the year. It made sense, I was a child of a practising Catholic family and I thought Jesus's big day was supposed to be the last day of the year. So what were those couple of days in between Christmas and New Year's? I believed those were just leftover days, as if someone didn't do their calendar arithmetic correctly.
When I was 9 years old, I asked for an amethyst necklace for Christmas. (I still believed in Santa.) My older sister got jealous so she told me that gold was colored the way it was because people peed on silver. I never wore the necklace again and still have an aversion to yellow gold.
At dusk, when the sky would turn pretty swirling colors my mom would tell me, "Santa's making candy!" To this day whenever I see a pretty sky at night, I get nostalgic and think about all the ways I'm going to lie to my kids when they're old enough to understand, but young enough not to know better.
My sister and I used to believe that Santa saw you through the light bulbs, and that's why he knew everything you did.
When I was a kid, there was a cute toy shop in town (still around too!) One of the people who owned it was an older man who was plump and had the beard to boot! Seriously thought that it was Santa's hangout in the off-season.
Until I was 8, I believed that, if you didn't have a chimney, Santa Claus would come in through the toilet.
I used to believe that my mom had Santa's phone number. Every time I heard here on the phone around Christmas, I would have a little internal freak-out that Santa would bring me coal.
Thanks to my sociopath uncle I used to believe that if I was bad Santa's evil cousin Blood Claus would come down the chimney and put me into his burlap sack, fly to the south pole, bake me into meatloaf and eat me. Needless to say I was a very well behaved child.
When I was little, I thought he was called the "Abdominal Snowman" instead of "Abominable."
I used to believe that when you got old enough you had sex with everyone. That scared me because I didn't want to have sex with fat people or Santa Claus.
I used to think Santa Claus lived and worked street lights because he needed something to do when it wasn't christmas
i thought cannibals were the same thing as cannonballs. i remember my mother being very surprised when i told her i wanted a pirate ship with cannibals for christmas!
I used to believe that since there was Santa Claus, there must be a Hannukah Man. I thought he drove in a 1960's Oldsmobile to our house and put presents by the Menorah.
When I was little, I used to believe that if you weren't asleep when Santa came he would send his elves down the chimney to poke out your eyes with their pointy shoes. Nightmares for weeks after Christmas until my dad finally convinced me he was joking.
One Christmas I noticed that my mom and Santa had the same handwriting. When I pointed this out to my mom she said, "Santa has lots of helpers." It suddenly all made sense. My mom was one of Santa's helpers and she didn't go to work because she was secretly making toys somewhere. Maybe even in our house! I never did find the secret toy factory in my house.
I've known Father Christmas wasn't real nearly all my life, but I used to think that the Easter bunny was real. I also used to think he was green and very fast.
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.
When I was 5, my dad was a cop. He was involved in a high-profile drug sting, and as a result, there were death threats on him and on my family. We got used to him checking the door with a pistol in his hand. One night in December, Dad went outside for a few minutes to "check around" as he did frequently. Suddenly, I heard bells and a loud, "HO, HO, HO!" coming from my bedroom window! I shrieked and ran for my mother in terror, and Mom asked me, "What's wrong, honey?" My panicked response: "Mommy, we've gotta stop Daddy! He's gonna shoot Santa!"
When I was about five, during a Christmas party, I asked my Dad some random question about the next year. His reply was "The world could end next year." Taken literally, I was afraid the world was going to end every December 31st until I was about 12 years old. Thanks Dad.