We are at a playground one evening.  This particular playground has a rather long row of monkey bars. One row after the next.  Altogether, probably about 20 - 30 feet of monkey bar.  A young man  (older than a teenager, younger than a dad), was there diligently working out. He went the entire length of the monkey bars, hand over hand, swinging gracefully.  He even made those little breathy sounds that people do when they work out. The kind that sound like "Whew!" "Whew!" "Whew!"  When he got to the end of the line of monkey bars he dropped down to the ground and brushed his hands off triumphantly and wiped the sweat from his brow.  Then he turned around and saw my toothless, 45 pound, six year old daughter right behind him.  "Hey look!"  She tells him.  "I followed you the whole way! You know why I am so good at that? Because my mom says I am part monkey, that's why!"  At which point the young man slunk off to his car and drove away without a word.