Behind the Couch

When we lived in Alaska, the couch couldn't be set flush against the wall for the (water) heater that ran along the baseboard on just about every wall in the house. I forget when it was that the girls discovered that they could squeeze themselves back there, but I do have a lively recollection of one of the times G went in one side and came out the other with such pleasure on her face. So here was a new play place. (The heater was never what you would call scalding, and yet we started leaving enough room back there so that they could walk without bumping about.)

It's hard to imagine I too was small at one point. I have the haziest impression of having once crawled behind by parents' couch too.