I was around 5 years old when i first realized my parents were hiding something from me.
At night i would take a bath, and my mom would pronounce me “squeaky clean” when i was finished. For proof, she would rub some of my wet hair together between her fingers and it would squeak. I loved it.
One evening, before my bath, i was decidedly not squeaky clean. To prove it, i dunked my head, said something to my mom about not being squeaky clean yet, and rubbed my hair between my fingers… and it squeaked.
I didn’t have words for it then, but i remember the feeling. At first i was shocked, then confused. Then comprehension that wet hair squeaked whether it was clean or not. Realization that it was a ploy to get me to take a bath and that it wasn’t true at all.
I don’t remember discovering that Santa wasn’t real. I was told from an early age that he was just make-believe. Realizing that “squeaky clean” didn’t mean anything was my Santa-equivalent revelation that parents sometimes tell you things that aren’t true.