When I was very little, in San Diego, my dad would take me to the playground at the school up the hill from us. I was too small for the big kid playground, but that was okay with me because the little kid playground had this awesome cheese house. I would climb up it and through it (I fit through most of the holes). My dad and I played cat and mouse; I was the mouse hiding and climbing away from the cat who snarled and growled at me. It was so much fun. I have described this playground to others in my adult life and received looks like I belonged in an asylum. I've never met anyone else who had played in a cheese house; I thought that my cheese house was the only one. Then at a rest stop along I-80 in Nebraska I saw a cheese house playground. I was so excited; I had to take a picture to show my dad the cat.