They pretty much heat up like frying pans.

So in come the crowds, and up go the wails of startled tots. Cut to fuming parents and terrible press. Hastily, the park erects some little tents to keep out the sun, but these are rinky-dink and don't do the job. And so, perhaps, the kiddie domes are doomed.

This would be ironic, because in their sheer, utter blobbiness -- the fact they have no moving parts, no sharp edges and aren't much steeper than a speed bump -- the domes would seem to be the safest, blandest playground equipment ever erected. They fit in perfectly in a child-rearing culture that demands a world without a single ouchie. The bubble-wrap zeitgeist. So maybe there's a lesson here: When we strive for too much safety, we get burned.

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