writing mood

I'm in the chatty catty mood today. I was reading Robyn's and Promo guy’s posts about learning about Santa. WHAT? There isn't a Santa? Well crap. There's a first... "Blogger Finds Out St. Nick Not Real Through Online Journals". It could happen. I found out the same time Robyn did. I was 8. Walking home from school and a kid neighbor was telling me how she saw her parents putting the presents under the tree. I fought it. I called her a liar and she was wrong and said her dad looked like Santa (he didn't but it was easy to confuse the two in the dark right?) and ran to my mom hoping she would go tell that girl how wrong she was. My mother’s face. The quietness of the room. The sickness in my stomach when I found out he wasn't real.

But I guess I should have known... just that Christmas earlier, I was at home alone while mom was next door having tea with the lady, we got a phone call and I answered it and it was some lady from a store telling me to tell my mom that the "Barbie Hair Station" was out of stock, but the "Cher doll" was still in and would be in replacement. Those were my Christmas gifts I asked for Santa! Cher was my back-up gift if Barbie Hair Station wasn't ready by the elves yet! I can't even remember the lame excuse she gave me but I know she covered it up well... but I remember that conversation with the lady. She never once considered it might be a present for me.

With the heartbreaking moment of understanding there is no Santa - and I couldn't tell my sister, she was/still is 3 years younger then me.. I said ok and went off to play. I came back seconds later and asked does that mean the Easter bunny and the tooth-fairy? How bummed I was to find out no more free cash for fallen teeth. The delight was when it came to Easter, my mom was very sick and my dad was at work - I got to do my sister's candy for her and I made it real hard for her to find her stuff but so easy to find mine! (I still had to pretend he showed up for me)

J is 8 and D is 7 - it is now a matter of time before we tell them the truth. B says he was 10 before he found out. Dang.. putz was good at keeping the wool over his eyes.