The night of my spectacularly exhausting seventh birth, I dreamt about an amazing fictitious place. This combination alien looking playground area possibly found within the outer limits of the twilight zone.
     Only kids between the ages of six to eight years old allowed entry into this magic kingdom. False tattle telling if a kid might be younger or older immediately gauged by an entire super intelligent ethereal being.
     Those small, medium or at large girls and boys got randomly chosen, and then more thoroughly screened to be sure the glorious hoopla reserved for this antsy, bouncy, and rowdy busload of children.
     The Al Gore rhythm Linkedin to thee entire property, would allow very truthfully comfortable memory.
     Each lass or lad could and/or would never forget the tearful rapture, gleeful enjoyment, and bona fide dazzling exposure to thee most out of this world series of thrills awaiting them, and creating one unforgettable day of fun.
     Prior to taking unescorted leave from siblings and legal guardians, the Crowdsource of youngsters spit out (in zany one direction), the words nah…nah…nah…. nah…nah merrily.
     Each playfully tongue-thrusting teasing Soundcloud could be heard loud and clear as a Liberty bell.          
     Also pinkish puckered quickened rocketmail sans slithering tongues did ecstatically Flickr, when stuck out of mouths mockingly toward siblings.
     No adult neither yelled, nor smacked us grade school pupils.
     Matter of fact, now where could be seen any person older than the baddest, basest, or biggest brute seen anywhere.
     Thus we be bopped, hip hopped, and mimicked jumping rope like cockroaches dancing on a hot stove.
     No rules posted that restricted, outlawed, or forbade anything.
     Each boy or girl could do whatever he or she wanted without fear of being sent to a chalkboard or principal's office.