12 Days of Christmas # 4
For my whole adult life I thought I stopped believing in Santa when I was 5. In looking at stuff for this post, I have discovered I was off by a year.
See, one Christmas, I really wanted Snake Mountain. I also wanted Castle Grayskull, but I really, really wanted Snake Mountain. So one day in December that year, my mom told me that Santa was going to be paying a visit to our house so we could let him know what we wanted for Christmas.
Later that afternoon, lo and behold, Santa was knocking at our door. Or, at least a dude that looked like Santa. He had the suit and the beard and the hat and all thatā¦but he also looked disturbingly like my uncle. I was pretty positive it was my uncle. I didnāt want to say anything, in case I was wrong, but I did devise a test. I figured Santa was magic and that no matter what I told him, heād know what I actually wanted.
So I sat on his lap and told him I wanted Castle Grayskull, when I really, really wanted Snake Mountain.
I figured that on Christmas morning, if I got Snake Mountain, Iād know he was the real deal. If I got Grayskullā¦it was my uncleās doing.
So Christmas morning, when we ran out to the living room to see what Santa left, I was somewhat surprised, and probably a little disappointed, to find Castle Grayskull waiting for me. Now, I was happy to have it, no question there. It was a killer playset. But in addition to not getting Snake Mountain, I now had to carry the weight on my shoulders that not only was that Santa who came to our house really my uncleā¦but that there was no Santa at all.
I donāt really know why my young brain made that leap. We were told all the time that the mall Santas and stuff were helpers and things like that. This deception seemed a lot more serious. I remember asking my mom about it and telling her I didnāt think Santa was real, and she did ultimately admit it and asked me not to say anything to my younger sister and brother.
At least, thatās how I remember it. But, as I said, I have ALWAYS remembered very clearly that I was 5 years old when I stopped believing in Santa. In Christmas ā83 I wouldāve been 5 years old (5 and a half, thank you very much). But it turns out, Snake Mountain was not released until 1984! What the fuck! I was 6 years old when I stopped believing in Santa Claus?!
I never did get Snake Mountain, though a friend on my block did, so I did get to play with it a little. And 1984 was probably the actual last year I even gave a shit about He-Man, aside from the 1987 movie, because by ā85, my brain was 100% GI Joe obsessed.
By the power of Christmasā¦.
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