We went to the Mayan Peninsula during winter vacations once.
As we left home a few days before Christmas, I suggested to my 10 year old that he leave some milk and cookies in front of the chimney, in case Santa came down on Christmas Eve. He scoffed - there was no Santa Claus. So I put down the milk and cookies, saying that poor Santa may get thirsty.
As the missus and our son got in the car, I got the baggage behind them, quickly slipped a note under the milk, spilt a bit of it, crushed a cookie and locked the door behind me.
When we returned ten days later, the little guy stared at the spilt milk and at the note next to it. He ignored the scenario and went past it to his room.
As we all settled down in different parts of the house, he crept back to the fireplace and read the note, which said there was another note in his bathroom. The bathroom note sent him to the basement and that sent him to the attic. He kept on following note after note throughout the house.
I caught up with him when he was reading a note in the kitchen, and asked him what he was reading. He said, “Nothing.”
I guffawed and gave him a Christmas gift ”that Santa had left in our bedroom.”
Our tween was on the internet hour after hour. I gave him a couple of verbal warnings, but he wasn’t listening. So I switched the Wi-Fi off.
The next morning, I got up at the break of dawn and found him in the internet. He had run an Ethernet cable from the third floor router to his Macintosh on a lower floor. I had to give him his day.
Many years later when he was a teenager, I heard him on the phone informing a lady friend, “My dad is the kind who unplugs the internet in our house.”