When I was teeny, sometimes my papa would take us to the candy shop near his house. It was a place of joy and wonder. Rows of shelves stretching out before me, towering overhead, bursting with treats. I loved it so much, I remember wanting to say goodbye at the end of one visit – my little arms stretched out as far as they could go, my little cheek pressed against the – wait, what? Adult memory tells me, against the sooty white-painted cinderblock wall of a gas station convenience store.

Moral: Happiness is everywhere.