I'm assuming it was Christmas eve. It was at my parents house on DeCarmen in Colton. After being put to bed I escaped my cell of sheets, cleverly maneuvering the land mines of toys I neglected to put away like my mother had asked. Stealthy I cracked the door hoping to see the fat red man I had left cookies for.
Panning from right to left I didn't see much. Kitchen, empty. Dining room, empty. But there in the living sitting, eating the bait I had left out were two figures. On the right of the couch a large mass of eighties hair with a feminine voice. This I presumed was my mother. Next to her I saw a man wrapping a large yellow and green box with writing. First I focused on what was left of the gift. YES! It was the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle van! Something I had asked Santa for, and the man wrapping it was my dad. Next I watched him wrap what looked like a Nintendo cartridge.
After what seemed like hours but was probably only about ten minutes, I navigated my way through the sharp objects blanketing my floor and climbed into bed. Knowing what my parents had gotten me for Christmas my mind wandered thinking of the greater things Santa's elves had been constructing for me.
The next morning I stood at the edge of my parents bed like I often did. Staring without saying a word. Kind of like those creep twins from the Shining. Who knows how long I was there, all that is certain is it freaked my parents out. I just thought I was doing the polite thing by not waking them up. Apparently the force was strong with me as a youngling and my Jedi waking mind trick was well developed.
Now that they were up and about I ran to the tree distributing gifts to their rightful owners. Like a tornado of paper I ripped through mine. I don't even remember what I got, probably the G.I. Joe underwear my mom would later haggle over with an elderly woman at our yard sale a decade later. There were two left. I had yet to see the greatest vehicle in existence or Nintendo game. My first thought was, they gave these to the poor kids! My mom had taken me in the past with her to an event where her work would give gifts to kids whose parents couldn't afford them. Pessimism had apparently settled early in my child psyche.
Both were labeled from Santa. I looked at my parents confused and simi-angerly. I looked for an open seam and pulled with all my might at the small rectangle. It was then that I saw a Mad Max video game. I didn't really know who this fellow was or what he had done to obtain the fame of a video game but I was happy. Next was the big one.
After shaking it, I noticed not much rattling. I flipped it over and saw a yellow box with a black and white bar code and continued to tear off the rest of the paper. There it was. The one and only Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle van! Screaming and raising the box triumphantly I ran around the small living room until it hit me. This was from Santa? The night before I saw my dad wrapping both these gifts. My toddler brain soon deduced that this meant only one of two things. One, my father was Santa Claus and I knew this couldn't be because he didn't have the build. Secondly, there was no Santa. It was then that I realized the truth.
I kept up the charade of believing in "His Redness" for another decade. Why you ask? More presents, why else? I knew who they were really from. The name on the tag didn't mean it was given with any less love. Was I traumatized? No. Although, I guess it has left some bit of an impact in my life because I remember it so well. You may say that my parents lied to me, but that's not true. My parents wanted me to be a part of what every other kid experienced and for that I love them.
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