I remember when I found out. That secret. The biggest one in our lifetimes. Santa wasn’t real. It was my mom. I was 8 years old.
We were at a party at our friends the Hazels’ up in my hometown of Chico. My sister Laura told me — I think she, at 15, had been dipping into the grown-ups’ party punch.
This news was confirmed by my best friend Teri, who herself had just found out at school. For some reason, the news didn’t devastate me.
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