How old is Arizona?

It was close to midnight and I was riding in the cab of the truck with my parents.  Everyone else had fallen fast asleep in the camper long ago.  Our conversation had been jumping from topics like, the recent election to regulating bowel movements to Becca’s soon-to-be fiancé, for a while.  We were chatting about anything and everything that came to our minds; to keep Dad awake.

An Arizona Centennial sign passed by and I silently questioned, “How much tax money did it take to put up all those darn centennial signs?!  There are millions of them … all over Arizona!”  And since we were voicing whatever thoughts came to our minds, I said it.

                “How much money do you think they spent on those signs?”

Mom and Dad looked at each other with a did-you-see-the-sign? face.

“What signs, Em?” Dad asked me.

“You know, all those signs they put up for Arizona’s 100th birthday this year.  Haven’t you noticed?  They are everywhere!  How much tax money do you think they spent on those?” I answered.

“Too much!”  Mom declared.

After a short rant about taxes and how ridiculous this tax is or that tax is, Dad brought the conversation back to states.

“You know,” he started, “Arizona was one of the very last sates to join the Union- number 48, I think.  Most of the other states had been states for over 220 years or something.  Twice as long as Arizona.”

“WOW!”  Mom and I said incredulously.

There was a short pause in our conversation, for Mom and me to ponder the overly impressive information Dad had just impressed upon our sleepy minds.  “OVER, two hundred and twenty years?!” I thought.  “That is such a long time.  How long has Arizona been a state?”

“So … how old is Arizona then?!” Mom and I wondered aloud to each other.

“Don’t ask me.  I don't know.” I stated, verbalizing my complete cluelessness on the matter.

Dad sat quiet and unbelieving, a skeptical look in his eye, while Mom and I tried to figure out how old Arizona could possibly be?!  We debated for a minute or two before we were interrupted by giggling.

“What are you cackling about, Charlie?” Mom probed.

Dad responded simply, “100.  Arizona is 100 years old.”

Mom and I sheepishly looked at each other and bust out laughing.  We had been talking about Arizona’s CENTENNIAL sign!