When I was little, there was a local fireman (maybe the fire chief?) who would dress up as Santa and go around to houses of friends and visit their kids. Usually in exchange for a bottle of whisky. My parents didn't drink or buy alcohol, but he would still come to our house and bring little gifts for all of us (five kids spread out 18 years). Our front door had a glass window on the top, but I was too short to see out. When he would leave, my older siblings would stand looking out that window and tell me that they could see him flying away in his sleigh. Of course, by the time I could climb the couch and see out the picture window, Santa would be gone. I was about 5 when I figured Santa out, so they didn't get to do it to me for too many years, but they had fun with it while they could.
Then we got to do the same to my 5-years-younger-than-me little brother
