Quote:
Originally Posted by thejellymill
I'd have slapped the teacher. The myth of Santa Clause is one of the most traumatizing things in childhood, it's a big fat lie. I should know, I was lied to until age 6
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I believed in Santa Clause until I was eight, because one summer, I thought he would come if I put out some cookies (we only had oatmeal left, but I figured Santa wouldnt mind) and Kool-Aid (that was when I hated milk). And then, at like 10pm, I was looking out my window, waiting for him, and my mom was like "What are you looking at?" And I was like "Shhh mom, I'm waiting for Santa!" And then my brother, who was also in the room, was like "He's not real, stupid."
And since I'm very Type B, I was like "Oh, okay" and went to bed. [No trauma there]
When I was five, I was sitting in class, hanging out during playtime, and I was doing this seemingly-cool thing with my fingers: fingers straight out and together, one finger lifted up, and then placed back with the rest, like a puzzle. So I was like "Look guys! It's like a puzzle!" Unfortunately for me, the finger I lifted was my middle finger, and one kid told the teacher.