Ok, with all due respect here, I don’t know what kind of crack you folks are smoking. I AM NOT TELLING HIM.
Maybe next year around christmas this would be funny, but now the wounds are very fresh. I derided his Christmas Spirit, I cried, I made him go to the mall on a sunday morning the week before Christmas and beg to be let in to a closed store and then, worst of all I made him listen to my John Denver and the Muppets christmas CD (which makes him want to gouge out his ears) to PROVE HE HAD CHRISTMAS SPIRIT.
Oh no, I am not telling him.
Even if I told him next year, I could see this being one of those things that are JUST NOT EVER FUNNY. Kind of like the time when our dog disappeared and we thought he ran away. Then, 15 years later, my dad admitted that he took the dog to the pound because it was an evil evil dog (he was actally pretty evil). My dad thought enough time had passed that we might not get upset. WRONG. My mom, sister and I are STILL holding a grudge about poor Sandy.
It just isn’t going to happen. I am not telling him.