I don’t know that I know anybody who loves California as much as Kina does. It’s a fascination that seems to have cropped up in the past year, and it’s made up of equal parts novelty, Lala, ice cream, playgrounds, sunshine, princess dresses, and unimpeded time with her parents. The sense of discovery I see in her is dizzying—she really is just absorbing this place, and it’s pushed aside any other part of her life; friends are a distant memory, teachers living in wistful shadow, the subway a relic of another age. Instead: so many beautiful flowers, ripe avocados, hot tubs, and adoration. It’s a fair trade, I think. No space left in the brain. Just California.