When I was a child, I wanted to know if Santa existed or not. I think it is all. This is usually done by method:

Okay, say it and...

But I went further at my eight years. My plan was simple: to write out all of my letter to Santa Claus with select mattresses and thus find out if his parents are reading.

My burning ass made it clear that the message was carefully read by the parents, and Santa Claus, therefore, does not exist.

At the age of eight I became a man.