For the most part, I don't regret not having children. One of the things that I miss however is seeing the holidays through their eyes. The sense of wonder at all the lights and decorations, the anticipation of finding out just what Santa brought this year. Those closest I ever came to it was setting up an Easter basket for a girlfriend so she could spend the evening before at her boyfriend's house.
I do think back to my childhood and my experiences with Santa. I remember waking up early (which was quite the feat as I always was a night person) to see what this jolly old man had left for me. I was always pestering my Mom trying to find out how he would get inside since we never had a chimney.
I figured out when I was about 6 or 7 that there wasn't really a Santa but I was a greedy kid. I decided that as long as I didn't let my mother know that there wasn't really a Santa then I would keep getting double the gifts. Since I had a little sister, it worked out pretty well until I was about 10 (or 11...it was a long time ago).
Now that I am an adult, I know that my mom knew that I was scamming her but I really thought that I was putting something over on her. At what age did you admit that you didn't think that Santa was real?