There’s a store in Michigan — more of a self-contained universe — called Meijer. The “j” is silent, but every other letter should be pronounced. Think of it as a mistyped y, like “Meiyer”.

Meijer has everything: watermelons, toasters, jackets, pies, thermometers, antifreeze, and goldfish. If you’re looking to feed a cold, bathe your dog, or knit a gluten free sweater, it’s the stop of one.

Among all the whatnot, Meijer has a horse that plugs into the wall and eats pennies in exchange for a short ride. A single Sandy lives in every store, offering an expedition to nowhere for kids of all ages. Like lifting weights, it’s a bunch of work that gets nothing done, yet it’s good for you.

Tonight, between the second and third penny, Cam asked me where Sandy lives. “Right here in the store,” I said, looking him in the eye, both to convey sincerity and to see if he believed me.

He did.