How did you find out that Santa Claus was...?

Hammer89

I'm not in the business of destroying dreams, so I kept the title open-ended.

Everybody remembers this, right? It's a seminal moment in life. It's the moment you discover that the world is actually a bit boring and sh*t, about as magical as Uri Geller around wooden spoons. I do. My memory's a little hazy, but I was still living in my childhood home at the time so I would've been, say, eight years old.

Anywho, this would've been shortly after Christmas because I got a letter from the man himself thanking me for milk and cookies. Right off the bat I knew something was amiss because we left him a club milk - who the f*ck kept cookies in the 90s? Not my home and not any home that I was familiar with.

That planted the seed of doubt; one that blossomed further when I saw 'Clerys' on the back of the letter. Mum worked there at the time. "How queer," I thought to myself. "Could that really be a coincidence?" I confronted her. "Mum, level with me babe: did you send this?" The jig was up. She was f*cked and she knew it. I genuinely remember her reaction when I asked if he was real. She didn't have to answer. Her face told me and oh how I cried. I was devastated. The world stopped being magical from that day on. Or did it?

Mum was a single parent, on a f*cking Clerys salary, and still Santa Claus managed to deliver all the sh*t my little sister and I demanded in our Santa letters. Looking back, that's as miraculous as visiting every house on planet earth in the space of about eight hours because it's real.

If there's any single mothers, or fathers, on here dreading Christmas because your kids still believe in Santa, I salute you. It must be f*cking hard, but it's worth it.

I can't remember how I found out, but I remember how my son found out.

Something happened at Easter, I can't exactly remember what, which led to my wife saying that of course the incident meant that the Easter Bunny was made up. He looked right at her with a look of astonishment and said "so if the Easter Bunny isn't real, doesn't that mean.......?". We had to own up. He was let's just say highly surprised, but only for a few minutes.

martingriff

Deleted User wrote: »

I can't remember how I found out, but I remember how my son found out.

Something happened at Easter, I can't exactly remember what, which led to my wife saying that of course the incident meant that the Easter Bunny was made up. He looked right at her with a look of astonishment and said "so if the Easter Bunny isn't real, doesn't that mean.......?". We had to own up. He was let's just say highly surprised, but only for a few minutes.

Funny enough that was the same way for me but instead of Easter bunny it was the tooth fairy

Into The Blue

I was about 8, lying in bed pretending to be asleep watching my parents place the stockings at the end of my and my brothers beds.

Heart broken.

yes there

Looking for money in my ma's purse and I found our letters to santa still in there.
Not as if I could confront my ma so I told my sister and she confirmed it for me.

Hammer89

Into The Blue wrote: »

I was about 8, lying in bed pretending to be asleep watching my parents place the stockings at the end of my and my brothers beds.

Heart broken.

Rookie mistake. Don't they know children are about as tired as a cokehead during a rave on Christmas eve?

martingriff

Hammer89 wrote: »

Rookie mistake. Don't they know children are about as tired as a cokehead during a rave on Christmas eve?

Post of the day

Medusa22

I was about eight when I began to question whether Santa was real or not, I'd previously found out that the toothfairy wasn't real so I had a sneaking suspicion that it was the same for Santa.

I sat my mother down to have a serious conversation about the matter, and I told her that she had to be honest with me, she asked me if I really wanted to know, and I said ''yes'' and she said that he wasn't real and I said ''but will I still get presents?'' and she said that I would, so I was mildly disappointed but relieved that I'd still get presents.

Azalea

I'd say from about age 7/8 onwards there are children who start to realise the truth deep down and massive denial kicks in. But the hints start to resonate at that age - e.g. why doesn't Santa give presents to poor children - they can't all be naughty, why is there all this talk of his elves making the toys in the workshop when most of them are clearly shop-bought, why do the number of gifts vary from child to child?

To be fair, the logistics of the flying sleigh/reindeer, same being able to carry enough toys for children around the whole world, Santa fitting down the chimney etc can easily be explained - magic. But not the other stuff.

When I was seven I left out a few Season's Greetings for him but the wrappers left behind were of different sweets to the ones I left. I reckoned he didn't like the ones I left out though, so he magicked up his preferred flavours (or just found the box and made swaps).

A year or two later it struck me that some children's presents were wrapped but ours weren't.

When I was 10, a girl in my class went around telling everyone. Initially I was gutted - my mother briefly convinced me it was a lie and Santa just didn't visit her because she didn't believe (I'm the youngest - she wanted to hold onto Santa being part of Christmas as long as possible, bless ) but then I faced facts, and felt well grown up. At 10 I had good innings in fairness. Loved those years when that auld fella was around though.

That first Santa-less Christmas at age 10 felt a wee bit sad...

The Backwards Man

Bullys told me when I was five.

On the plus side, they are both sad bastard losers now. Not that I hold a grudge!

Mountainsandh

I don't remember my experience, but my Mum always tells me how she felt terrible because I got very upset and said : "i know, but couldn't you let me believe for another while ???".

So now my daughter's ten, nothing gets past her, and I think she knows and wants to hold on to the belief for another while, and I dread the moment of truth because I know she'll hate it. She's practically my clone inside and outside, scarily so at times.

NachoBusiness

:eek:

Nodin

...a muslim? The beard, the way he stopped drinking the stout, the lack of pork products as random presents.

Jude13

Hammer89 wrote: »

I'm not in the business of destroying dreams, so I kept the title open-ended.

Everybody remembers this, right? It's a seminal moment in life. It's the moment you discover that the world is actually a bit boring and sh*t, about as magical as Uri Geller around wooden spoons. I do. My memory's a little hazy, but I was still living in my childhood home at the time so I would've been, say, eight years old.

Anywho, this would've been shortly after Christmas because I got a letter from the man himself thanking me for milk and cookies. Right off the bat I knew something was amiss because we left him a club milk - who the f*ck kept cookies in the 90s? Not my home and not any home that I was familiar with.

That planted the seed of doubt; one that blossomed further when I saw 'Clerys' on the back of the letter. Mum worked there at the time. "How queer," I thought to myself. "Could that really be a coincidence?" I confronted her. "Mum, level with me babe: did you send this?" The jig was up. She was f*cked and she knew it. I genuinely remember her reaction when I asked if he was real. She didn't have to answer. Her face told me and oh how I cried. I was devastated. The world stopped being magical from that day on. Or did it?

Mum was a single parent, on a f*cking Clerys salary, and still Santa Claus managed to deliver all the sh*t my little sister and I demanded in our Santa letters. Looking back, that's as miraculous as visiting every house on planet earth in the space of about eight hours because it's real.

If there's any single mothers, or fathers, on here dreading Christmas because your kids still believe in Santa, I salute you. It must be f*cking hard, but it's worth it.

One of the few times I wish I count thank a post twice. Wonderfully written.

Padster90s

Figured it out when I was 9 or 10, I think that'd be considered late these days! Just didn't add up, we had to send, the shoe box presents to Africa so why didn't Santa go there. Just didn't make sense when I got to a certain age! To be fair I think as I was the last for him in the house my parents wanted to hold on to Santa for as long as they could, could you blame them!! Thinking back the tooth fairy and Easter bunny never really happened in our house! We got money off Gran for teeth! The upside side was that when I did send letters to Santa I was a sneak and put 5 or 10 pound in them to get on Santa's good side! Found the letters in mam and dads room one Paddy's Day and had 45 pounds for myself!! Just made the change over to the euro to by about 10 days! Course it also meant they never actually read them!!

lc180

I was about 7 or 8, my older next door neighbour told me the craic, he thought he was way cool being in the know and telling everyone.

This person grew up to be a d**k, who would have guessed!

pappyodaniel

I don't think I ever got over the trauma of finding out that Santa was a lie. When you think about it, it's kind of a messed up thing to do to a child. The fantasy is all well and good but the kid is gonna find out eventually and is probably going to resent you for lying to them and making them feel stupid.

Santa Claus is a crock of sh!t but in some ways he makes about as much sense as what they tell you in the Bible.

Aglomerado

I was looking for the cat, who had run into my parents' bedroom. And I saw the things I'd written to Santa for! I kept up the pretence till Christmas day though. It didn't seem right to announce it straight away. I was 10 and this was 1987. A few days later our witch of a teacher announced to the class that she hoped no child in her class still believed in childish things like Santa. One of my friends cried all the way home.

Hammer89

lc180 wrote: »

I was about 7 or 8, my older next door neighbour told me the craic, he thought he was way cool being in the know and telling everyone.

This person grew up to be a d**k, who would have guessed!

Once one kid knows then forget about it. It'll spread like wildfire.

Hammer89

Hammer89 wrote: »

I'm not in the business of destroying dreams, so I kept the title open-ended.

Everybody remembers this, right? It's a seminal moment in life. It's the moment you discover that the world is actually a bit boring and sh*t, about as magical as Uri Geller around wooden spoons. I do. My memory's a little hazy, but I was still living in my childhood home at the time so I would've been, say, eight years old.

Anywho, this would've been shortly after Christmas because I got a letter from the man himself thanking me for milk and cookies. Right off the bat I knew something was amiss because we left him a club milk - who the f*ck kept cookies in the 90s? Not my home and not any home that I was familiar with.

That planted the seed of doubt; one that blossomed further when I saw 'Clerys' on the back of the letter. Mum worked there at the time. "How queer," I thought to myself. "Could that really be a coincidence?" I confronted her. "Mum, level with me babe: did you send this?" The jig was up. She was f*cked and she knew it. I genuinely remember her reaction when I asked if he was real. She didn't have to answer. Her face told me and oh how I cried. I was devastated. The world stopped being magical from that day on. Or did it?

Mum was a single parent, on a f*cking Clerys salary, and still Santa Claus managed to deliver all the sh*t my little sister and I demanded in our Santa letters. Looking back, that's as miraculous as visiting every house on planet earth in the space of about eight hours because it's real.

If there's any single mothers, or fathers, on here dreading Christmas because your kids still believe in Santa, I salute you. It must be f*cking hard, but it's worth it.

OP, that's a magical post in itself. I'm not ashamed to say that a tear trickled down my eye after reading the last couple of paragraphs. This tells me two things.

1. You've got both a way with words and a wonderful mother, you're a lucky guy/girl.

2. My PMS is really kicking in.

I learned the truth on Christmas day when I was about 10. I tiptoed down the stairs unbeknownst to my older siblings and parents, only to overhear my granny exclaim loudly "I can't believe we got her to believe in Santa for another year!". Then there were mutterings from the siblings about me being a bit of a gullible thick.

Hammer89

Candie wrote: »

OP, that's a magical post in itself. I'm not ashamed to say that a tear trickled down my eye after reading the last couple of paragraphs. This tells me two things.

1. You've got both a way with words and a wonderful mother, you're a lucky guy/girl.

2. My PMS is really kicking in.

I learned the truth on Christmas day when I was about 10. I tiptoed down the stairs unbeknownst to my older siblings and parents, only to overhear my granny exclaim loudly "I can't believe we got her to believe in Santa for another year!". Then there were mutterings from the siblings about me being a bit of a gullible thick.

This will be my first Christmas without mum, who died earlier in the year, so I got a little teary-eyed writing it too.

Hammer89

Hammer89 wrote: »

This will be my first Christmas without mum, who died earlier in the year, so I got a little teary-eyed writing it too.

You poor darling. I hope you have a lovely time remembering her, and that it's not too painful. Be kind to yourself over Christmas, it's what she'd want.



I'm totally bawling now.

jimgoose

I don't quite apprehend the question?

alchemist33

I can't remember the age, but I almost totally disbelieved by the time I read a letter in a Sunday newpaper, relating a story from a dad who dressed as Santa while leaving the presents, then tripped on the robe coming down the stairs and broke a limb. I suppose the editors of the News Of the World didn't expect kids to be reading the letters page!

smash

My son is 10. I know he doesn't believe, but he says he does so he'll get presents. The doubt started a few years ago when another kid said something in the school yard to try and spoil it for him. At that time his favourite movie was the polar express and for those of you who haven't seen it, it's about a kid who almost stops believing but ends up going to the north poll on the polar express and Santa gives him a bell off his sleigh, but only those who believe can hear the bell ringing when you shake it. My mother ordered one of the bells on-line for him and we hid it in the tree. Come Christmas morning my parents called over and I asked him to reach under the tree to get their presents but in doing so, the bell fell out. We all pretended we didn't hear it fall, but the look in his eyes was priceless and it saved the magic for another year.

frozenfrozen

I was getting a lift home from a friends house, the mother driving was so stoned (realised this many years later) she missed the turn no less than five times on the dual carraigeway for my road. and had to loop all the way back around which took easily 5 minutes each time. JUST as we were pulling up outside my house I can't remember the exact wording but my friend said something about santa not being real, his mother took in a huge gasp, and he just said "oh frozenfrozen; you obviously don't believe in santa, do you?"

..I just said of course not.. got out of the car and as soon as I got in the door saw my mam and said 'santa isn't real is he?' she just hugged me and I shit you not she all said was 'that little bastard'. One of the only times in my childhood I ever heard her curse, and she was right, that little spoiled bastard child with his **** parents stole easily another few years of magic from me.

Not sure what age I was but it was well before the rest of the class found out. I saw it happen for them and I couldn't believe it. I tried my best to defend poor santa but the seed had already been sown. A little know-it-all with two tight parents who had never done christmas for him decided that when he was asked what he was getting for christmas he would let everyone know exactly what the real story was.

****ers, the lot of them.

_Brian

I think I was eleven. We were out Christmas shopping and my dad worked it naturally into the conversation, he knew I knew but wanted to be sure.

My daughter is 12 now and similarly we had the crack with her during the summer gone by. She knew last year but worked with it for the younger sisters sake, she's seven.
I was dreading my daughter not believing any more but I suppose a bit like she was ready seems so were we. She's helping us sus out what her sister would like as we don't have lists - it's a surprise each year and that's it.

All that said, the 12 YO has no idea what she's getting for Christmas and it will be laid out as if from Santa.
So in many ways we all get to go in pretending, happy days

Ruu

Older neighbour told me about 10. He said my Mam and Dad was Santa. I started to say while picturing them in red suits and fake beards, wait how do they travel around the...oh.

lazeedaisy

My sister told us all, she was 13, brother was 12, sister was 11, I was 10 and baby was 8, she took us to the attic and showed us...

Ths was before the Easter bunny, waaaayyy before...

Plazaman

I was 9 when next door neighbour, a lanky 11 year old, told me and my younger buddy that it was our parents that buy everything and Mr C was all a crock of sh1t.

Younger friend burst into tears and ran home, I was in shock and holding some sort of a toy which I flung at the lanker hitting him square in face drawing blood and calling him a lying liar.

That evening his mother turns up at my door (with him in tow) demanding my mother to punish me for hurting her angel who is smirking away. "He's telling everyone that Santa isn't real" I cry. Cue Lankys mouth drop open, his mother clipping him across the back of the head and dragging him home while apologising to me.

Fcuker still has a scar which I relish to this day.

Atlantic Dawn

It came down to the basics of common sense, the rich people got great presents the poor did not, clearly it was somehow linked to your families wealth and not some generous bearded lad.