I'm loathe to share it, but it is an interesting look at the childhood of yours truly.
When we were little, my sister and I were always forced to go see Santa every Christmas. It was always a traumatizing experience.
I'm telling you now, if I ever ran into Santa somewhere, I'd be all over him like a... well, like a shark on a wounded, bleeding fat whale.
Anyway, here's the picture:
My sister and I, traumatized by the fat man.
I don't know why parents feel the need to do this to their children. Of course, my mother wasn't really very maternal to begin with. I almost think she WANTED my dad to eat me.