On How I Ruined Christmas

The year was 1994, in the month of December. My best friend and I had just settled into a game of Hungry Hungry Hippos when the topic of Christmas arose.

“I hope I get SuperTalk Barbie,” I yearned. “Did you know she can say over 100,000 things?”


“Well I already know what I’m getting for Christmas,” replied my best friend, “because I snooped and found it all”.

I was incredulous. At 9 years old, I was a play-by-the rules-type of kid. I did my homework religiously, never talked back to my parents, and had an unwavering, self-imposed bedtime of 8:00 p.m. The idea that someone would snoop for their Christmas gifts seemed an affront to almost everything I believed in.

“But you couldn’t have found them all!” I pleaded. “What about the ones Santa brings on Christmas Eve?”

“Oh Bree,” she said, shaking her head, “You’ve got a lot to learn.”

She led me down the hall towards her parent’s room, checking to make sure they were firmly entranced by the TV on the way. She motioned for me to “Shhh” as we tiptoed into the bedroom and opened the closet door. There stood a large bag full of Christmas delights: Barbies, shiny new clothes and a few wrapped packages.

A pile of Christmas gifts in colorful wrapping with ribbons.

“That one’s The Lion King,” she said, gesturing to the colourfully wrapped package I was holding. “I already steamed it open and wrapped it back up.”

I was overwhelmed with emotions. Despite this stark evidence to the contrary, I refused to believe that Santa was nothing more than an elaborate hoax. Maybe her parents just didn’t understand how the whole process worked. Did they even have a chimney? Perhaps they had worked out some sort of alternative delivery arrangement with Santa and were simply holding these presents in escrow on his behalf.

Seriously. That bag probably gets real heavy on Christmas Eve.

But try as I might to justify it, once this brain worm had been implanted, it was like inception. I needed to see for myself.

I waited until my mom was out grocery shopping and my dad was fussing with the Christmas lights outside to make my move. Given that I was a complete novice in gifting espionage, I didn’t quite know where to start, but figured I’d begin with the usual suspects. After striking out in the closet, under the bed and in the basement, I knew there was only one place left to look: the attic.

I had vowed never to set foot in our attic again after my two older brothers had locked me up there with a horrifying life-size Raggedy Ann doll almost 5 years prior. But sometimes, even your own rules are meant to be broken.

I took a deep breath, pulled the cord that released the rickety old ladder and began my ascent. Through the near pitch -darkness, I could make out a fuzzy pink blanket covering something big and oddly misshapen. I tip-toed closer, careful not to make a peep, and yanked the blanket off.

There before me lay Christmas morning: almost three weeks early. There was SuperTalk Barbie; just as I had dreamed of! There was a GT snow racer, a brand new SEGA genesis for my brothers, nerf guns, even a BopIt! And of course, the mother of all gifts: a giant, 12 disc rotating CD player (which, in 1994, was no small potatoes). It even had a double tape deck!


But then a funny thing happened. Instead of feeling validated like I had expected, I felt sick to my stomach. My initial excitement over being able to tape a tape quickly faded and left me with nothing but guilt and anxiety. I had ruined Christmas. There would be no surprises now. And worst of all, this seemed indisputable proof that there was indeed, no Santa Claus. We had a chimney. And it worked just fine.

Riddled with guilt, I tried everything in my power to clear my conscience. I wrote tearful admissions in my diary. I became Santa’s biggest playground defender. I even went to confession. But no amount of Our Father’s and Hail Mary’s could repress the memory of what I had done.

When Christmas morning came, I smiled with a heavy heart as we headed into the living room to see what “Santa” had brought us. “Look!” said my mom, pointing to the CD player excitedly, “Santa must know how much you like making mix tapes!”

I nodded forlornly as I watched my siblings tear open packages, their eyes glistening with delight at each new surprise. Oh what I would have given to experience that feeling myself!

Not me

“Hey guys,” said my dad, “come look on the roof! I think the reindeer left hoof prints!” I knew, of course, that there had been no reindeer. I had heard my dad up on the roof himself the previous night as I lay awake sleepless. He had spent almost an hour creating the perfect “tracks”. I was going to fake this surprise if it killed me.

I never did come clean to my parents about what I had done, and although I never snooped again, I still live with the residual guilt. I don’t know what, if anything, I can do to repay this karmic debt, but I do know that when I become a parent, I’ll be certain to find a better hiding spot.

I mean come on mom and dad, have you never SEEN this movie?
Really mom and dad? The attic? Have you SEEN Christmas Vacation?

Question of the Day: Did you snoop for your Christmas gifts growing up?


32 thoughts on “On How I Ruined Christmas

Add yours

  1. I was a Master snooper. I even sneaked down Christmas Eve to check out my stocking. Now Hubby tells me where he hid my gift so I get to decide if I want to spoil the surprise or not! I don’t! And the kids’ gifts are always very well hidden!! I learned how to be a Master Hider too!


  2. This past spring, we mercy-killed Santa for our soon-to-be 11-year-old. We wanted to do it well before Christmas and before the other kids started making fun of her. We called her into the kitchen, sat her down, and my wife said, “Abby, you’re almost 11 now, and there’s something we want to tell you because we think you’re old enough to know…. You’re adopted.”

    WHAAAT! My wife thought she was hilarious. Mother of the year. But you know what, after that, learning there was no Santa was a bit of a breeze.


    1. mercy-killed Santa hahaha.. and your wife sounds awesome.
      So basically you’re telling me I only had about 2 good years of believing left anyway? That helps a little. Thanks.


  3. Absolutely, I snooped!!
    AND, that’s why I used to hide the presents at the old neighbours house across the street, because my kids are as bad as I was. I wouldn’t even leave the gifts at my parents. because they would snoop there too!
    Awesome post, I wouldn’t be surprised if you see this one pressed!


  4. I did once. And only a couple of presents. I think I was 14 and I looked at a couple of them while my dad was at work. I can’t even remember what they were. Clothes, I think. Oh well…


  5. “gifting espionage“- best phrase ever. And that photo of those screaming little girls holding their presents is gold too.

    I think I may have told you this already but I stopped believing in Santa the year that `Santa` gave me a bunch of encylopedias instead of the Barbie Doll I asked for. He left a message with my father that `Karen is too smart for a doll`.

    Never felt the need to snoop after that.


    1. haha that pic made me LOL when I saw it, knew I had to include it.
      You are never too smart for barbies! And I’m not just saying that because I still have all of mine locked away in my parents basement for a rainy day…(aka this Christmas)


  6. I would snoop too and found them in the closet / attic beside my room. But I have to ask you… we got our daughter the Hungry Hippo game. What’s the secret to domination in this one? First, I have to beat Mommy. She already claims the House Putt-Putt champion. Then my daughter is not going to play by the rules anyway. Plus she will be smarter than me in a matter of months. I need some tips to prevent further ridcule. Afterwards, I guess I need to go move the girl’s gifts..guess where they are?

    Congrats on your running! It has to be brutle up there to do a run outside, eh? ~ I am hoping to do a half marathon in February, if I can get this sorry butt to the gym. Its flat, along the beach, and to preserve a Lighthouse if you and your running buddies want to join in.


    1. that is a good question! i never dominated at board games and/or video games because my older brothers never used to let me play at home. I got no practice!!
      Good for you on the half mary! Running on the beach in February seems pretty laughable here in Canada but I can dream.. and envy you 🙂


  7. Traumatizing! I was a big Santa defender myself. I never snooped around for presents and I loved the magic of Christmas. I think I was 10 years old and shopping around toys r us with my mom telling her things that Santa could get me. I probably listed 20 things when my mom finally turned around and said, “Santa’s not real.” UMMM WHAT.


  8. Girl – guilt will kill you! It was the Friday before my 13th birthday and I was pretty sure I had seen a phone service truck in the neighborhood. I felt guilty for looking on the wall behind my bed in MY room for a new plug!


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