I was about 7 years old when my father and mother said "Let's set a camera-trap for Santa Claus and see if we can get a picture of him!" Of course, I was extremely excited about this because Christmas is a very special time of year for me (my birthday is one week before). So, we set a very complex wire system across a doorway, attached to the shutter of a camera so that when Santa walked though that door, he would trip over the wire and set off the camera. I made special Christmas cookies with my mother and we put them on a dish with a big glass of milk for Santa (we did this every year and it was always delightful to me that the milk had been drunk and just a few crumbs of cookies left on the plate very year). The next morning, I got up early and ran into the living room. Sure enough, there was a photo on the floor just beneath the camera (it was an instamatic Kodak Poloroid camera, one of the early models)! There was Santa, with big white beard and a red suit, waving and smiling at the camera. This would have been my parent's delight if the whole thing had worked (after all, my father had gotten a Santa Claus costume to dress in and everything . . .), but unfortunately, being a sharp-eyed boy, I noticed my father's distinctive diamond wedding ring on "Santa's" hand and . . . well, suddenly, the illusions of my childhood came to an abrupt end.
I said nothing to my parents for another year or two because I didn't want to hurt their feelings . . .
Wow, memories of long, long ago . . .
