When I was around five years old (maybe four) I had a grand game I played. It was called "flying" and involved climbing to the top of the china cabinet esque piece of furniture close to my bed and hurling myself down on the bed...belly flop style. Geez! That was fun times. Except for the time that I didn't quite aim so well and landed squarely on the wicker ches that sat at the foot of my bed. I impaled my lower lip on it and screamed until a parental figure came and peeled my lip off the offending sticky-uppy bit of wicker. That cost me two stitches and a whole lot of trouble with regards to the mechanics of my game. That is the last time I remember playing "flying" ... in my room.

Soon I moved it outside after I convinced my brother and sister to move the trampoline somewhat under the upstairs balcony. Now, that was really flying. In the end that cost me a couple of teeth...but at that age I could afford to lose them.