Am I too old for Santa?

As a kid you write letters to Santa – how great is that guy - he can supply anything you want, no cost involved. You are greedily thinking of all the things that you don’t need but Santa is Mr. Big. He can get you whatever you want.

Well… thats until you realize he’s not real. At 8 years old I stood at the foot of my parents bed and asked, “Is Santa real?” my dad blearily asleep said, “No”.

My mum freaked.

“Why didn’t you just ask, “What do you think?” she asked my dad angrily.

“What else are you lying to me about?” I asked sensing a moment of weakness. “There’s no God” my dad answered as my mum pulled the clothes over her head groaning.

So from then on we had Christmas without Santa. I had to pretend to believe to my best friend and her brother, my classmates, my cousins, and even my grandparents. Pretending is not fun when there is a price limit placed on fake Santa and you know your parents are paying. For years my mum blamed my dad, “Santa could still be coming to this house you know” she still said for five more years until one Christmas we decided that everyone we knew realized that Santa wasn’t real.  

Every Christmas I feel disappointed – all the hype, the food and the drink. Enjoying Christmas after Santa was determined by how many presents I got and how much they cost. Your friends expected you to list as extravagant list as they did – it was a matter of honor. Christmas was not about spending time with your family and friends; it was about material things – phones, laptops and jewelry. But this year, for the first time, I appreciated the things that didn’t cost much, things like time spent with my old grandfathers, with my brother, and other people that I value. Its about coming home, getting together and enjoying others company… and its all for free.  

This year, Santa or no Santa I just enjoyed it.