ShopKo Souvenirs

View from our hotel on the Big Island.

What I’m about to reveal may rock a few childhood memories.

Sheila and I had spent ten days in Hawaii. We’d taken in two or three islands, soaked up plenty of sun, and survived the road to Hana. We’d endured the miserable redeye from Honolulu to LAX and the quick flight from there to Salt Lake City.

The kids were young. We’d bribed Sheila’s sister to stay with them. There were two kinds of trips when our kids were that age: family outings and vacations. Vacations did not include children. We were returning from a vacation.

On our way from the airport, we looked at each other and realized we’d purchased nothing for the kids. I guess we’d just had too much fun not thinking about them. Fortunately, there was a ShopKo a few blocks from home. We made a quick stop.

The kids were happy. We were happy. We saved plenty of $$ and, until now, no one was the wiser. Sorry kids.

What was the worst souvenir you brought someone?