A thought about Father christmas (Santa claus). As a kid i believed in father christmas but it never dawned on me that the presents were all labelled "from mum and dad or "from nan and grandad" or someone else. Why did i never realised that none were from him?
well i did realise eventually but i was always farily sceptical about it.
My parents ddi set it up so that my "big present" each year appeared to come from Santa, who had delivered it in to the living room by using his special skeleton key, or some such story. It fooled me for ages, but I don't remember being too dissapointed when I was told that he didn't actually exist.
I recently had a conversation with my girlfriend about whether children should be told that Santa exists or not. It's a nice story to have, but it does seem like an outright lie to me. (The discussion was after seeing Polar Express, which seemed to promote the idea that disbelief in this lie was wrong.) Hmm... complicated.
lol... my rents never told me Santa is not real..lmao!
I just figured it out on year you know...
But ya they always went to great lengths to make sure he seemed real. They wrote some from Santa others from them. They put black soot boot marks on our floors. They drank the eggnog and cookies we left. It was awesome!
"I have dreamed a dream... But now that dream is gone from me."
my parents labeled my main presents from santa, but they foolishly used the same types of wrapping on all the presents. i could tell it was a scam from day 1 but played dumb for a few years to rake in extra presents.
haha @ AsparagusTrevor.
I remember that someone told me in 2nd grade that Santa didn't exist, and I ardently defended the point that he did. So I ask my parents the next day, and then I found out that I was wrong. I felt like an idiot.
I meant it seems that after children are brought up believing in this mythical jolly red-suited figure (Santa, not Circy), there's the danger that when told he doesn't exist they will feel lied to - rather than it just being the harmless make-believe it's meant to be.
I give up, I've no idea what I'm talking about. I obviously didn't mean to imply that Santa was real, but I haven't seen my grandfather in a while and I have been getting a lot of strange postcards from Lappland.
I never really cared at all. Usually the kids that do care turn out to be whiney little creatins that love to wear white face paint, black eyeliner and lipstic and wear robes and talk about how satan will eat you out on a bed of asphestos or something. The moral of this story is that kids are stupid and like to push away the people that care the most, which are parents. Unless your parents are the drunk beating type, but I doubt that kid's last worries are wheather or not santa claus is real.