I'm not talking about the ancient Bishop of Myra, more commonly known as Saint Nicholas. Nope.
I'm talking about the widely taught belief that a plump jolly fellow brings presents for the little kiddies during the hours of whenever-they-are-asleep the night before Christmas. I'm talking about the amplification of Sir Santa by retail stores simply to sell some sure-to-break-soon merchandise. I'm talking about the blatant manipulation of a child's behavior based on the premise that someone who lives in the North Pole can actually see them throwing a fit. Ridiculous.
I can hear what you're saying, "Get real, Jason. There are far more important things you could be writing about, such as, what you'd like Santa to bring you for Christmas."
Get real, reader. Unless you can honestly argue for lying (figure that one out), I'll stay on my soap box. I can just picture the conversation some parents must be forced to have with their kids once the cat's out of the bag.
Heartbroken Child: "You mean (sniff, sniff) Santa's not.....real??"
Mommy/Daddy: "Oh Johnny, stop crying, mommy and daddy were just lying to you! That's all! I know you get in trouble for lying - but when your an adult you get to make stuff up all the time! It's really wonderful! Now, what did you want for Christmas again?"
So kids, in the rare case that you have internet access, still believe Santa is real, and actually chose to visit my blog - let me clue you in - Santa's not real.
