I had been wanting to share this story for two weeks, but I didn’t have time. Before 2006 creeps up, I’m going to squeeze it in!
OK, so our son DeAngelo is on the yearbook staff at his school. He had been bugging us about the Secret Santa exchange. The night before the big day comes and he decides instead of having me take him to the store, he will just find something in his bedroom.
Patrick had gone to bed and I was cleaning the kitchen when DeAngelo came out with this huge, heavy red wrapped package. “What is that?” I asked. “Nothing. Just my Secret Santa gift. I just asked Daddy and he said it was OK.”
No biggie, I go to bed. The next morning I hear the boom of Patrick’s fatherly voice:
“OPEN it. I want to see what that gift is.”
DeAngelo rips the Christmas paper off the front of the package and reveals a 16 x 20-inch $500 value acrylic and glitter on wood painting that Patrick made of a Maya warrior ready to slay his next victim.
“Dude!” Patrick hollars. “I made that for YOU and now you are giving it away to some kid in your yearbook class? Who is this kid? Will he even know what this represents?”
“No, I doubt it.” DeAngelo replies.
Patrick continued. “And you think he is going to carry that heavy thing around school all day long? And what will his parents think when he comes home with a glittered Maya warrior painting?”
DeAngelo bowed his head and sighed defeat. “OK, I’ll go find something else.”
The two of them go in DeAngelo’s room and Patrick is lecturing him on how he should have just had me take him to the store the night before. They find a comic book and Patrick picks it up and shakes it at him. “THIS is a Secret Santa gift!” DeAngelo takes the comic book and they leave for school.
Later in the day, I’m telling Theresa the story. We giggle over it. And then she stops and looks at me, her eyebrows crossed. She’s mad.
“Hey! That better not be the comic book I bought him last week!”