When I was young, we lived on a street called Cross Creek. (a name I remember because my parents drilled it into me in case I wandered off), and on that street there were some older kids that had a tree house in someone's backyard. It was a little square building, miles high in the air, with about 50 different peices of throw-away carpet nailed to it, and a trap door in the roof. I never can remember how I got up into that thing, or how I got down for that matter, but being there with the older kids always made me feel like I was really important.

I guess now I'm moving into a larger one now, but it still makes me feel important when I'm in my tree house.