The End of the Innocence

Santa brought me a digital clock radio for Christmas the year I was twelve. I loved it. That's the same year I found out the truth about Santa. The girl neighbor that lived across the street was two years older than I was and her brother was my age. S was like a big sister to me and I looked up to her in more ways than one (she was also tall). A few days after Christmas when some of us were hanging out at our house playing Monopoly and drinking hot chocolate, S told me that she was going to get me a clock radio for Christmas but her mom talked to my mom and my mom told her she'd already gotten me one. Alrighty then. It was official. The truth about Santa was finally revealed to me at the tender age of twelve. I suspected as much, but it still stung.

Johnny's my literal child. I think he'll figure it out first. He's three and he's already asking why Santa doesn't just come in through the front door. When I tell him it's because we lock the doors at night he asks, "Can't we just leave the door unlocked on Christmas Eve?"

My dad called home from his office a long time ago when Kate was five. It was around Christmastime and she answered the phone. I don't even think it was premeditated, and I remember him saying he didn't even change his voice, but he told Kate that it was Rudolph. I can still remember the look in her eye and the sound in her sweet little voice when she said, "Mommy! Rudolph is on the phone!"

S has no idea that she outed Santa. I see her and her family each week at church--maybe it's time for her to know. On the other hand, maybe not.