Secret Santa: DeAngelo Style

NOTE: This is essay is part of a memoir-writing class.  Our prompt was “hide.”

One school night, my then-teen son, DeAngelo, informed me he needed a Secret Santa gift for his yearbook party the next day.

I grabbed the remote, muted Late Night With Jay Leno and rolled my eyes. “Why do you always wait until the last minute?” I asked, avoiding eye contact because, honestly, he had warned me. But between my full-time newspaper job and the gazillion art pieces my husband and I were making for holiday orders, I forgot. 

I dreaded the late night store run. After 11 p.m., the only place open was Fry’s. I dramatically climbed off the couch. Then DeAngelo made an offer I couldn’t resist: 

“Don’t worry Mom, I’ll just find something in my room.”

He later emerged with a huge, heavy package, sloppily covered in wrapping paper. 

“Found my Secret Santa gift!,” he said, placing it on the kitchen table. My side-eye fully activated, motherly-instinct control panel glitching, I didn’t dare inquire further.

This is a kid who wanted to wear a yellow zoot suit to homecoming…as a third wheel to his best friend’s date! DeAngelo’s end goals always made us scratch our heads. 

I’d let fate play out.

The next morning, I awoke to the boom of my husband’s voice: “DeAngelo, show me what that gift is.”

Fueled by guilt, and curiosity, I peeked just as DeAngelo ripped off the paper, revealing a 16×20-inch custom acrylic and glitter painting Patrick created of an Aztec warrior in battle. Estimated value: $1,500.

Glittered painting by Patrick Murillo. Our son tried to give it as a Secret Santa gift!

 “Dude!” Patrick hollered. “I gifted that to you to honor your culture, and you’re giving it away to some kid? And you think he’s going to carry that heavy thing around all day? What will his parents think when he comes home with a bloody Aztec warrior who just finished a sacrifice to the gods?!”

Patrick marched into Deangelo’s cluttered room, reciting life lessons to the ceiling. Together they found a comic book. Patrick shook it at him. “THIS is a Secret Santa gift, wrap it up and let’s get you to school, you’re late now!”

Later, I shared the story with my sister. We giggled until she suddenly stopped, brows crossed. 

“Hey! That better not be the comic book I bought him last week!”