Sam's Club, that amazing, wonderful place.

This past summer, Mark and I took a week of vacation together. We didn't go anyplace exotic, instead staying close to home, having fun and tending to important chores.

The first Monday we were off, Mark told me he needed to run to Sam's Club for coffee supplies. Now my baby's a smart guy. He loves coffee, but he hates dirty coffee mugs, so he buys bulk quantities of travel cups and lids so he can take coffee to work and not have to clean the thermal mug.

The kids had never seen or heard of Sam's Club and when I told them we were going, they shrugged their shoulders with boredom.

"No, you guys don't understand. We're going to Sam's Club," I explained. "Sam's Club is a very exclusive store. You have to be a special member to even get in the door."

They perked up.

"You and I can't go there by ourselves," I continued. "We need someone who's a member of the store to let us in."

Their interest was officially piqued.

"Really? Wow! What do they sell at Sam's Club?" they asked, almost in unison.

In a hushed voice, like I was letting them in on a HUGE secret, I told them they had everything you could think of at Sam's Club -- and they had A LOT of it. I went on to explain about jumbo boxes of crackers and enormous jugs of juice. They were riveted to my every word.

"Why haven't you taken us there before?"

"Because I'm not a member. You have to have a special card with your picture on it to get in."

Then, on cue, Mark flashed his Sam's Club membership card. The kids stood in silent amazement. They looked upon the card with the same reverence as a mint-condition, 1933 Babe Ruth baseball card.

"Mark, will you take us to Sam's Club? Pleeeeeezzzzzze?"

Soaking up the glory of his new-found prestige, Mark agreed to take us with him.

When we walked in the door, sure enough, the greeter asked for Mark's card. The kids stood close to him, hanging on Mark's arms with the same grateful desperation as a groupies trying to get backstage at a Stones concert.

When we got in, the kids soaked in the amazing wonderment of The Club.

From ginormous flat-screen TVs to full-scale camping tents fully assembled, they were in awe. We breezed through to the back of the store to the food and food storage section.

Each aisle was more amazing than the last. From the industrial-sized canisters of Nesquik, to the gross boxes of Keebler sandwich cookies, the kids were completely floored. And, to top it off, at the end of every other aisle, was a person handing out free samples of various foods. We tried mini squares of frozen pizza, baby-sized cups of frozen yogurt and sips of exotic, flavored waters.

After finding Mark's supplies, I headed over to the frozen food section and picked out the biggest box of ice cream treats I could find. It was a hearty selection of Good Humor bars and cones, the exact same stuff our neighborhood ice cream truck guy sells. When I put the huge box in the cart, a purchase only made possible by a recent acquisition of an upright freezer, the kids were totally blown away.

Mark went up in the kids' estimation that day. Before the Sam's Club trip, he was a nice guy who helped them with math and liked to play Uno. But after our trip to The Club, he was their key to the magical, mystical world of warehouse retail stores.