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The Santa thread, Part 2 : Childhood revelations
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<blockquote data-quote="HeavenShallBurn" data-source="post: 3905581" data-attributes="member: 39593"><p>I remember clearly, mostly because of the trouble I got in.</p><p></p><p>6 years old I remember dimly that I'd been arguing about whether Santa was real with other kids in school. I was the one who didn't believe. So this time I set out to "prove" it. Probably helped that we lived in the deep south and things just didn't match up. Where was a sleigh going to land? How could he come through chimneys we didn't have a fireplace? And the beat-up travel trailer (caravan for Aussies) that we packed into during vacation was usually left unlocked during the spring and summer but suddenly got locked come autumn? </p><p></p><p>So I took some monofilament fishing line and treble hooks and made myself a Santa trap. You see our house had only one door, the front door, so I knew how the presents would arrive. Thus after dark Christmas eve I pretended to sleep long enough to fool my parents and slipped out the window in the dark and set a nice little snare bangled with about a dozen treble hooks anchored to the porch post just in front of the door. The spot where you naturally stepped to enter had worn into a little shallow bowl over time since the house was fairly old and filled up with sand so I buried the snare just barely under the surface. Then I returned to my room and waited. </p><p></p><p>Now my father used to have the habit of walking around barefoot so long as he wasn't going into town or at work (a habit I've picked up). So a little past midnight there was a huge commotion and I leapt up and opened my bedroom door to see my father sprawled in the doorway with the snare around his foot and calf. The loop didn't have enough to snare properly but the hooks latched on real good. That year Christmas was interrupted for a midnight emergency room visit to get stitches and spoiled the Santa thing for my younger brothers and sisters even if my older siblings just shook their heads. Then he got back and I was whipped as never before or since, don't recall ever needing to be whipped after that one. The suggestion alone was enough to make me change tack.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="HeavenShallBurn, post: 3905581, member: 39593"] I remember clearly, mostly because of the trouble I got in. 6 years old I remember dimly that I'd been arguing about whether Santa was real with other kids in school. I was the one who didn't believe. So this time I set out to "prove" it. Probably helped that we lived in the deep south and things just didn't match up. Where was a sleigh going to land? How could he come through chimneys we didn't have a fireplace? And the beat-up travel trailer (caravan for Aussies) that we packed into during vacation was usually left unlocked during the spring and summer but suddenly got locked come autumn? So I took some monofilament fishing line and treble hooks and made myself a Santa trap. You see our house had only one door, the front door, so I knew how the presents would arrive. Thus after dark Christmas eve I pretended to sleep long enough to fool my parents and slipped out the window in the dark and set a nice little snare bangled with about a dozen treble hooks anchored to the porch post just in front of the door. The spot where you naturally stepped to enter had worn into a little shallow bowl over time since the house was fairly old and filled up with sand so I buried the snare just barely under the surface. Then I returned to my room and waited. Now my father used to have the habit of walking around barefoot so long as he wasn't going into town or at work (a habit I've picked up). So a little past midnight there was a huge commotion and I leapt up and opened my bedroom door to see my father sprawled in the doorway with the snare around his foot and calf. The loop didn't have enough to snare properly but the hooks latched on real good. That year Christmas was interrupted for a midnight emergency room visit to get stitches and spoiled the Santa thing for my younger brothers and sisters even if my older siblings just shook their heads. Then he got back and I was whipped as never before or since, don't recall ever needing to be whipped after that one. The suggestion alone was enough to make me change tack. [/QUOTE]
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