{spoiler: Santa is fake}
The year was 1995. We had a giant IBM computer and Windows 95, which basically meant we were SET. Well, until Mom would pick up the phone and disconnect the Internet.
Dad had discovered this website called called SantaClaus.net and it would "track" to see when Santa would pass over our house. AMAZING, right? We would play for hours (only because it took that long to navigate around) typing our names into the Naughty or Nice List and playing Christmas flash games.
After we returned home from Christmas Eve festivities, Bethany and I put on our matching Christmas p-jams, Dad read us 2 versions of Twas the Night Before Christmas (original and Muppet, with voices) and then we scampered off to bed.
Every year prior to this, I would tidy up my room before going to sleep, just in case Santa wanted to come tell me Merry Christmas. I don't know why I thought he would want to do this. Probably saw it on a Hallmark commercial or something.
But this year would be different.
This would be the year I would know if the whole "be good all year if you want presents" and "get to bed so Santa can come" propaganda was for real. You see, this website had sparked a thought in my 9 year old brain. If this new, magic, website could see when Santa would be AT OUR HOUSE, he had to be real...right?
I devised a plan to test the authenticity of Santa Claus.
Mom and Dad were still saying no to my pleas for a dog at this point. Jolly Old Saint Nick, however, had to be merciful and would bring a well-behaved little girl a puppy.
I asked Santa for a dog in a very nicely worded note, which I left next to the customary milk and cookies. I even left a box next to the fireplace with newspaper in the bottom for Santa to leave he/she in.
The next morning, Bethany came in to wake me up and we ran down the hall into the living room to check out the spread. Santa had been there! He brought me clothes for my American Girl doll, probably some Pet Shops or Polly Pockets and other assorted toys that a 9 year old would play with. This might be the year I got the Quilt Sewing Kit or the Hair Scrunchy Maker. I was pretty big into arts and crafts.
There was a note in my newspaper-lined box. Written on yellow notepaper from my dad's desk. In my mom's handwriting.
"Santa doesn't have puppies on his sled."
Santa Myth: BUSTED
