Today was going to be the day. The day he might possibly remember for the rest of his life. His watery brown eyes focused on the red car, bouncing slightly on its coiled spring, its tires so perfectly round.

The boy let go of his mother’s hand. This was it. What it had all been leading up to. All other escapades on the playground were hopelessly inferior to this marvelous contraption.

Wiping his hands on his tiny overalls, the toddler took a step forward. Then another. Finally he lifted his foot up onto the side, swinging the other leg across. The plastic was warm to the touch.

He shuddered with anticipation. He rocked himself back and forth, back and forth until the whole four-wheeler started bumping up and down. The breeze flipped his tousled hair to and fro. What a rush! What exhilaration! Surely there was nothing that could compete with this!

Finally, his mother came and dragged him away. He glanced back one more time, and only one thought crossed his mind.

Monkey bars.