On the opposite side of the city, at the corners of Belton and Lively, I stopped at a red light. To my right sat Crompton Field. Little kids were playing soccer in the well-groomed grass, kicking a ball back and forth and giggling. Other children were jumping in sandboxes and screaming in excitement as they rode down the swirling, silver slide. The teeter-totter and jungle gym were polluted with kids. Small, tall, and some with runny noses, they all laughed, cried, and circled their mothers, fathers, or nannies. I couldn’t help myself and counted the strollers: seven. Nor could I keep my eyes off a handsome father and how delicate he emotionally handled his daughter, skipping with her next to one of the occupied swing sets.