When I was little, I used to believe
in Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny and other things parents tell
their children. I never doubted that they existed for many years,
even though my brother had kept on telling me that they were just
fairy tales. On Christmas, we would always write what we wanted to
get for gifts and I would write about how I wanted a mansion and a
golden toilet or something like that. It was not until I was about
seven or eight when I realized Santa was not real. I found this out
when on Christmas morning, I went downstairs under the tree, to
realize that their were not any presents under it. Confused, I asked
my mother where they were, only for her to tell me that Santa was
busy Christmas eve, and he could not come to our house until the next
day.
For the Easter Bunny, I never questioned why a bunny would go around laying colorful eggs everywhere, or why they would have chocolate inside of them. I stopped believing in the Tooth Fairy because I had found my brother's teeth inside the little boxes that the dentist gave him when he pulled the tooth on the shelf in the cabinet that I never use. I also used to believe in monsters under my bed and things in my closet at night, so my mother had to leave the hallway light on until I fell asleep. Then, I got a night light, so I used that.
For the Easter Bunny, I never questioned why a bunny would go around laying colorful eggs everywhere, or why they would have chocolate inside of them. I stopped believing in the Tooth Fairy because I had found my brother's teeth inside the little boxes that the dentist gave him when he pulled the tooth on the shelf in the cabinet that I never use. I also used to believe in monsters under my bed and things in my closet at night, so my mother had to leave the hallway light on until I fell asleep. Then, I got a night light, so I used that.
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