I've been living at home with my dad over the past few months since I got back from Australia. The thought of living in the suburbs made me kind of want to hurl, as I've grown attached to city living over the last eight years.

But you know what? As I was watching TV in my room in the cool of the evening with a golden sunset melting into the horizon, I heard children laughing in the common yard between the townhouses. A smile stole my casually pursed lips as I remembered my own childhood. Growing up in a suburban cul-de-sac had many advantages: the pavement up to the dead end served as a great place to play softball with the neighbors, no one ever drove down our street unless they lived there (only five houses), and all the safety for your children in the 21st century one could expect. My five friends and I would run around the neighborhood and laugh and play, dream up huge clubhouses that we would build if we had the money and dig holes in the ground we'd lace with treasure to find for a scavenger hunt we'd make for the other team. We'd tell made up stories of the man in the woods and climb trees higher than our houses (oh to be flexible again!).

As I muted the TV to listen to the kids playing I heard my own mom faintly, "Jamie, come in for dinner." And there was dad parking the riding lawn mower to come wash up. All of us kids would scatter into our houses and try to eat our dinner as fast as possible so we could run to the front windows and peer out the drapes seeing if anyone else had finished his pork chop and escaped prison.

Don't get me wrong. I L-O-V-E the city. And I may not give my own children the luxury of playing outside in the street until 10 or 11pm but it's nice to know that some kids have that today.