Santa can burn in hell.

I was seven years old. I had spent over a month defending to many of my friends the existence of Santa Claus. I believed my parents. After all, it was my parents who told me not to lie. They taught me that lying was wrong. They taught me that integrity was a critical character trait.

One day, in late December, over at a friends house, my friends presented conclusive proof that Santa Claus was indeed our parents. They showed me the presents labled "from Santa" that they had found hidden in a closet.

I did not speak to my parents that night unless I was spoken to. I couldn't. My faith in the integrity of the very people whom preached honesty to me was shattered. It was the ultimate humiliation and betrayal in my eyes. I now had to face my peers in school, at church, everywhere to whom I had so staunchly defended the existence of this godlike magical figure. And now I knew the truth. I had taken the word of my parents as truth. And why shouldn't I? As a child, Santa Claus is nearly deified by the marketing machine and to some degree or other, our parents. They lied about Santa, and Santa is everywhere in our society, at least for a couple of months a year. Oh no, what else where they lying about? Did this Jesus guy exist? God? They're so similar...

It took years before I trusted my parents again on many issues. They had proven to me that they were capable of dishonesty surrounding what is certainly one of the more important things in a child's life.

Do any of you guys remember the moment when you found out? I mean, am I all alone in the sense of betrayal I felt? Do you lie to your kids? Grandkids? Part of the giant machine of deception that is the Christmas retail marketing machine?