Hellobee Boards

I was 6 when I found out. My (future marine) uncle who was only 4 years older than I, booby trapped the living room. We lived together, in my grandmother's house. Not only was he able to trap my gram, but my mom too. When I heard the commotion I came down, saw the hot mess of a living room and went back to bed. I apparently wasn't concerned who was giving me presents, as long as they came on December 25th.

When I Woke up and saw my mom wrapping presents! Prob around 4 or 5!

Like @chopsuey119 and @mrsbells I wasn't raised to believe in Santa. My parents told us Santa was a character and taught us about the real Saint Nicholas. I would like to do the same with my kids one day. My husband wants Santa. I'm not sure what to do.

I don't remember how old I was, but I heard all this noise coming from the basement. I went down to see what it was, and my parents were down there putting together this Hershey's chocolate milk carton "lemonade" stand. The next morning, it was to me and my sister from Santa.

I never believed in Santa (yay Jesus).
We always left cookies and milk out on Christmas Eve, but we always knew that it was really my parents who put out the presents and we kind of just "pretended."

This is where my DH and I really disagree because he REALLY believed in Santa until he was 10. I mean like, LOVED Santa. He wants to do the same for our kids, but I don't see we need to make them believe a fantasy and them break it to them later in life that it was all a lie. I was perfectly happy as a child knowing that he was a "myth."

Never believed in Santa but I totally believed in the tooth fairy!

I don't really remember if I believed in Santa or not! Maybe I did for a little bit... But for the most part I think I knew he wasn't real. I would ALWAYS leave out cookies and milk and every year.... they never got eaten. I think that was my first clue. That, or Santa hated my cookies.

I was 6 or 7, and stayed up late hiding under the table at my grandparent's house waiting for Santa. He walks into the living room, drops off gifts, stuffs the stockings, eats some cookies and milk and leaves.

I go upstairs to bed, and walk by my dad taking off his hat and beard in the room across the hall. He didn't see me, I just remember seeing that and going to bed. I didn't tell him what I saw until a couple years ago. He was so sad that I saw him. Poor dad!