The Santa Thing
2003-12-31 1:44 a.m.
I was recently reminded about when I first learned of the lie that is Santa.I was of a similar age. Around 4 or 5. Back then I lived with my mom and her brother. The game back then was, mom made very little income (less than I made this year with no job), and my uncle was a contractor (still is). We would buy houses in sub par neighborhoods for a damned good price, fix em up and move within a year / year and a half. This went on for about 12 years.
Well, living with my uncle afforded me a couple brothers. They were his two sons (yes, cousins), and the three of us were TIGHT. They came for the summers and went with their mom for the other 9 months of the year. We played together, bathed together, fought together and stole from the neighborhood kids together. Always in some shit, and never gave a fuck cuz we had each other.
So one christmas eve night, while everyone was dead asleep, I snuk downstairs to go finish taking apart the telephone (I used to take shit apart as a kid) to get over my impatience for Christmas morning. I saw my mom and uncle wrapping gifts. I watched for about 10 minutes and ran upstairs. I waited for everyone to drink themselves to sleep. Too giddy to hold it in I woke my cousins.
It was about 4 am, and I told them what I'd seen. I told them what we were getting. Older Cousin was getting Optimus Prime. Younger cousin (older than me) was getting a G.I. Joe Truck, and I was getting a knight rider car.
Of course they wallowed in disbelief. What devil could have possibly possessed me to distrust the stories of the fat red suited man? I needed proof. I was a story teller even then, but this one was fact. So I gently unwrapped the transformer. Making sure not to rip the paper, I loosened the well taped gift to show part of the box.
Awestruck, they sat in disbelief. I too was amazed that it wasn't my imagination. And something came over us. We went mad. Opened EVERYTHING. EVERYONE's gifts. Not just ours. Mom's, Uncle's, Grandma's. There was paper everywhere. We raped the tree of it's colorful wrappings and fought eachother over who owned what of our bounty.
Then... we played with everything... well past sunrise.
The floor creaked and my uncle was spotted heading towards the bathroom. Our stomachs exploded amoungst the wrapping paper wasteland. Our hearts had stopped in synch and our fingers trembled in fear. We were stiff and cold. The thought of my uncles wrath via belt and bad english was unimaginable.
We threw everything behind the couch and ran to the kitchen.
"What The?!?!"
"Boys, Get your little asses in here!!!"
"Whoever's last, go up and grab my belt"
Nobody moved. We just stared at eachother across the kitchen table like we did when we had to sit at the table because none of us wanted to eat our vegetables. Our pride seeping through the plastic feet of our pajamas...
Then.. The rustling of paper. He found our poor hiding place. It was impossible to blink.
"I said get your asses in here!! Son of a..."
Up the stairs at full speed and right back down.
He comes in and grabs the oldest, dragging him into the living room. Kicking and screaming, and holding on to the chair as a last hope for a soft behind. Screaming "No dad, we didn't know!!!"
I squealed over the lump in my throat... "It was all me, I'm so sorry!!!"
It was too late.
WHACK!
WHACK!!
Every slap of the belt echoed over the last. Eventaully our own asses felt each hit and we winced at the thought of being next. Then my other cousin. Dragged away to his doom.
Finally me. In the midst of it all, I actaully felt more pain for my cousins than myself. I barely felt the belt tanning my hind, which would soon make sitting a task. All I could thing is the ass whooping my cousins got for my own discovery. My own contageous madness.
I'm sure as hell going to make sure I do a better job of hiding the whole santa thing from my kids. If at least to save them from their own madness.
A few years later, by the time were were about 8, their mother reprogrammed the kids into believing my uncle was a bad guy and suddenly they stopped coming around. I assure you, as I know.. just as I know I'm 6'6", he's one of the best men I've ever had in my life. More of a good, strong and caring father figure than most men I'd ever met then and now.
I've missed my cousins for a good part of my life. It's incredible how a parent's scuffle could affect my life so drastically. My brothers, who shared ass whoopings with me time and time again. I hope they turned out alright. And I hope they do a better job keeping up the whole santa thing.