I don't remember ever believing in Santa. Maybe I just have a shotty memory and Mom, you can correct me if I'm wrong, but I don't remember thinking that fat guy was ever real. I blame this on my Kuya (my brother). Very early on, he taught me that Mom and Dad hide presents in their closet or under their beds. (Really,Mom and Dad? You couldn't think of better hiding places?) My brother and I would peruse the house and gawk at the toys we were getting on Christmas from "Santa." Later in life, when I wouldn't have time to search the house for presents because I was to busy playing house, I would shuffle through the presents under the tree and ever so carefully untape one side, maybe the other, and take a little peekaroo. I may or may not have opened a whole present once and rewrapped it afterwards. This rebellious habit lasted well into my 20's. I stopped because I confessed this to my Hubby and he made me promise I would stop doing that. Luckily, we share a bank account now and I can easily see what I get for Christmas. Nanny nanny boo boo! :p
I hope Joaquin doesn't pick up on Mommy's bad habit. I hope he believes in Santa forever. I pray that he doesn't turn out to be one of those first graders I once had that blurted out "Santa isn't real!" I hated those kids and I would scrambled like hell to divert the conversation before the other first graders asked me any questions about it.
So, this Christmas I will start planning. I will start a plan on how to make my son believe in Santa and find good places around the house to hide the presents so Santa's cover is never blown. Joaquin WILL believe... Or he will teach his younger siblings otherwise. Either way, it'll be fun times.