Not so fast there with the absolutes, my friend. Way back in the olden days I did a one-year stint as a fifth grade teacher. The last day before Christmas break I had all the kiddies gathered on the reading rug, and I read them a picture book about a boy who had to comfort his little brother after he found out from some bigger kids that there was no Santa Claus.
As I was scanning my audience I noticed one student’s lips begin to quiver uncontrollably. And then his tears started rolling. I don’t know who was more mortified: me, because I’d crushed this poor 11-year-old’s fantasy; or his classmates, many of whom looked stunned that they were sharing reading rug space with a kid who still believed in Santa.
Can anyone say, “Awkward moment?”
Long story short - the heartbroken kid got hustled down to the office, where his parents came to pick him up. After the New Year his dad called me furious that his son found out in the manner that he did, and I was thinking, “Dude, what in the world kind of parent are you? He’s eleven years old for Pete’s sake! What were you planning to do, keep the hope alive until he was of legal age?”
Moral: Never assume all kids know anything.