TWENTY-FIVE years ago, the prospect of hearing Santa Claus was a fake would have left millions of children totally disillusioned. Today, I'm not so sure.
As an impressionable six-year-old, I was a believer. But, now, when I confront my formidable 10-year-old niece, there is no question where many children's beliefs lie: 'Santa Claus? He's for little kids; he doesn't really exist,' she says, and not without a little bit of a sneer.
The girl has all the answers.
Presents? Mum and Dad buy them, then they wrap them, and sign them from Santa.
Reindeer? They can't fly and, even if they could, where would they park? And there aren't too many chimneys in Hong Kong.
What about the milk and biscuits left for the reindeer on Christmas Eve and the empty glass and plate of crumbs in their places on Christmas morning? Easy - Mum eats the biscuits and drinks the milk.