How old were you when you found out that Santa wasn’t real? Was it from an older cousin accidentally spilling the beans or from some bully at school that ruined the folklore for you? Were you one of those kids who found out themselves and shattered everyone else’s dreams or keep it a secret so they could believe another year longer? I was of those kids who thought he out smarted his parents and found out there wasn’t a guy sliding down chimneys deliver my Christmas gifts… it was my parents.
After confronting my parents about the randomly locked room we had in our basement strictly in the month of December, we thought it was best that I kept this secret from my younger brother for a few more years. That day I found out Santa wasn’t real was the day I took it upon myself to spread all the Christmas cheer I could.
Since the unveiling of good ole Saint Nick, I have taken the reins of Santa Clause around my family. Year after year I would be the one all dressed up in the Santa suit for all the kids. I’d yell out, “Ho, ho, ho, Merry Christmas.” sounding just like I was the big guy himself. I’d have to sneak away from the party, slip into my Santa suit like I was Superman, and go hand out gifts to everyone as if I was Oprah.
This year, since everyone was older, I figured that my Santa Clause tradition was over. It was the first year I didn’t have that responsibility and I was enjoying myself. My drinks were stronger and the joints were fatter and I was relaxing. In a way I never have before. Damn was it short lived though.
It was immediately after I made myself a fresh mixie my sister asked me if I was ready to wear the suit. A question I clearly wasn’t expecting to hear, but I could’t let my family down. The Santa Suit only fit me and there was no way we were going to have a Christmas without Santa.. not on my watch.
I slipped out from the party, stuffed a pillow under my red coat, and snuck out of the back door to ring the doorbell of my sisters house. Instantly my cousin opened the door, acting all surprised like they never seen Santa before, eager to let me inside. I bellowed out my best, “Ho, ho,ho,” and proceeded putting on the show I always have.
We were only doing this whole Santa gimmick for my youngest cousin. Turns out we underestimated his smartness. Instead of being flabbergasted like a kid normally would be at the sight of Santa, he was yearning to interrogate me. I could see it in his eyes as he sat on my lap. He wasn’t there to talk about Christmas gifts, or whether or not he was on the naughty or nice list. All he wanted to know was; “What kind of imposter I was and where is the real Santa?”
He knew that Santa doesn’t just go around ringing doorbells to hand deliver gifts. This is the same guy that slides down chimneys to deliver present while everyone is sleeping. He knew that Santa wouldn’t be able to waste his time on Christmas Eve to stop and hangout with our family specifically. This kid could see through every hole in our story and was exploiting me.
I passively pushed him off my leg, passed out the last gift to my much older cousin, and dashed through the door like I was Blitzen. I striped down from my Santa outfit, back into my Christmas finest, and made it back to the party before my cousin finished opening his gift.
It was like he could feel my eyes piercing him and he dropped his gift to approach me before he finished opening it. He asked me where I was, knowing damn well I was missing from the party while Santa was here. He knew what was going on and I had no way of talking my way out of it. All I could do was give him something else to think about, “Listen kid you gotta think of it like this, I’m not saying I am or aren’t Santa Clause, I’m just saying you’ve nerve seen me and Santa Clause together at the same time. Where was your Uncle tonight anyway?”
He walked away with his mind in a pretzel. I either completely ruined Christmas for him or got another four years of him still believing in good Ole Saint Nick. I guess we’ll find out next year.
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