Not really sure what this has to do with the OP’s question, but here goes.
When I was a kid, my father was the Personnel Manager of a large department store in downtown Cleveland – it’s actually the store where Ralphie goes to see Santa in the “A Christmas Story” movie. My parents only had one car in those days, and Dad usually took it to work. During the Christmas season he often had to work late as the store was open later hours and had to hire extra Christmas help. One evening during the Christmas season, though, he would leave the car at home, and my mom and brother and I would drive downtown and meet dad for dinner, shopping, and to see Santa.
Of course, we saw the Santa at his store. He told us that was the “real” Santa and the Santas at the other department stores downtown were only “Santa’s Helpers.”
Little did we know, the Santa at his store was one of the extra Christmas help that Dad had hired. He’d “prep” the Santa about our visit, tell him our names, our teacher’s names, what grade we were in, etc. I’d climb up on his lap and he’s say “Hi, Kevin” (he knew my name before I told him! He must be real!) “have you been a good boy?” “Yes, Santa” “we’ll I don’t know about that, didn’t you get in a big fight with your brother last Thursday” (“Holy smoke – I’m sunk – this guy knows everything!”).
As a result, I probably believed in Santa a lot longer than most kids. When I figured it out, I didn’t feel betrayed. It was all good fun, and I have some great memories about it now.