So picture this. When I was 5 years old I was growing up in a typical anytown USA home. Just starting school. Pimpin it old school with my homies and my grade school sista's. It all started out with a half a day of school. Afternoons if you were lucky like me. Then they lulled you to sleep in 1st grade with books and juice breaks. Next thing you know they're giving you fucking home work. But I'm not here to complain.
So the school year started off pretty well. I was enjoying school, making friends, and generally enjoying life. What 5 year old wouldn't. So you make new friends the 1st day of school and don't think much of it. Who could predict that the person you met the first day of school would be in your wedding or would save your life 30 years from now. But I'm not trying to get too sentimental. I'll save that for later.
It was a casual fall of '80. The air was crisp and the leaves were still dropping from the trees. Thanksgiving came and went without a trace. It was on to the real deal. Christmas. And not just xmas, but xmas break. But being all of 5, what concept of vacation did I have. My life was a vacation in and of itself at that point.
So its 2 days before Christmas and I'm lovin every minute of it. Promises of presents and the such are filling my head. Can't wait to see what the "Big Fat Man" has brought us. And I mean us. At that age you are just as happy for everyone else when they open their gifts too. Think about that when you are shoppping this year.
Anyways, back to my brother stealing my childhood. So it's xmas eve night. We're home from the annual party at Aunt Em and Uncle Bob's. A party that was held every year,and "everybody" in the family went every year. From what I hear that's what most families call a tradition.
Shortly after the party my 7yr old brother and I were put to bed. Our 11yr old brother then came into our room to tell us that there was no Santa Claus.
All I could muster was "Nuh uh Dickweed"
Ok. Maybe I didn't call him that exactly, but I think I made my point. And he says yeah, there isn't a real Santa Claus. Its Mom and Dad.
I know what you're thinking. What a prick right. Just wait. If you think you hate him now, listen to what he does next.
So I pass out cold, thinking of sugar plums dancing in my head. Or however that stupid fucking song goes. Point is I'm out cold and merely hours away from tearing shit open on Christmas 'morn. And then he did it. Took away not only Xmas and Santa, but the Easter Bunny and the tooth fairy too. My oldest brother wakes me up from what might has well be a coma and drags me to my bedroom door.
"There they are. Look, told you it was Mom and Dad. There isn't a Santa Claus afterall"
As I remember it, I never even cried. I wasn't upset at all. I just felt like I needed to fake it the next morning as we opened everything. I might have been young but I still knew the value of playing the game to keep your parents happy.
The only true solice I have is that my brother now has a 2 and a half year old son. Wouldn't that be a bitch if I payed him back almost 30yrs later. I would never do it to my nephew, but there's no reason not to torture my brother with that threat.
As far as I'm concerned, it couldn't have worked out better. Yeah I didn't get to enjoy Christmas as long as many of my classmates, but I did learn one lesson that I will apply to my adult life as long as I live.
"If I can't be happy, I need to make sure to bring down as many people as possible along the way"
And on that note be sure to have a Happy Holiday and make sure to watch the "A Christmas Story" marathon on Xmas Eve. It's the best movie of all time for a reason.
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