My Cup Runneth Over

In California, our children are not considered ready to learn their state’s history until they are in fourth grade. Our farflung land’s history is rural, wild and exotic. It is the story of harrowing passages, pioneers, covered wagons and gold. It’s a far cry from the Pennsylvania history of Benjamin Franklin and Constitutional Conventions that my husband learned in his childhood.

This is why we paid $500 for our son, at the seasoned age of ten years old, to board a plane to spend 19 hours in Sacramento with his classmates (and several saintly parent chaperones).

Their itinerary would include Sutter’s Fort, the Capitol building, the Railroad Museum, and most memorably, a candy store. It would also include adventure, maturation, and bonding that comes from two takeoffs and landings with friends.

But without a doubt, the very best part of the entire, five hundred dollar indulgent experience was his choice of souvenir:

As far as I’m concered, that was the best five hundred dollars we ever spent.


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