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Am I the only one reading this thread and getting a little depressed by all the people rushing to point out how quickly they realised Santa wasn't real, or how they never really believed as a kid. What the hell? I can't remember exactly when I realised, when I was still pretty young, but even so, I was willing to believe it and maintain that belief for a while, because why not. At any rate, once I did find out I know I kept the pretence up for the benefit of my sister until she twigged herself a few years later.
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Amen brother. I forget how old I was exactly, but damn if my parents didn't get me and my sister hook line and sinker for a good while.
My favorite Christmas illusion was leaving out milk and cookies, and waking up to find a partial glass of milk and a few bits of cookie left over. My parents went out of their way to even use different wrapping paper from the gifts they gave to other family members the night before during our annual Christmas Eve party. They kept the illusion going, and damn if it wasn't air-tight. I started to figure it out when I noticed that Santa and my mom had the same handwriting, and that Santa started addressing my gifts to "my sweet boy."
Either Santa was a pederast or my mom was writing on the gifts, and since I didn't know what child rape was at the time, I figured out it was my mom. I thought it was great. Christmas, while I still love it, was always best when I was a naive child, and I'll be damned if my parents didn't handle the lie with the greatness. I'm glad my parents let my sister and I ease into the truth the way they did.
Jam it back in, in the dark.
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