Nobody in the neighborhood where I grew up would ever play in the Sand Box.
That's becasue there was an Urban Legend at the time, about these things called Sand Worms, that lived only in Sand Boxes, apparently.
Yep, the Sand Worms could eat right through the rubber on the bottom of your Gym Shoes, and they'd get inside you and climb up through your legs and eat you from the inside out!
So no matter where you looked in that town, there'd be kids on the swings and the Jungle Gyms and all that, but all of the sand boxes were totally empty, man, and if you threatened to put us in that damn thing, with all the Sand Worms, we'd scream bloody murder.
I moved to the country later on, and some years went by, and I forgot all about Sand Worms.
But then this story starting going around about a kid that died from this kind of human heart-worm that lives in Raccoon Poop, I dunno if it was really true or not, doesn't matter.
And we had Raccoon Poop frickin' everywhere in the country, man, but the scariest thing about it was that it was usually found in the branches of trees, typically where you'd stick your hands when you were trying to climb up there.
So they were Tree Climbing Worms, I guess.
What a horrible-ass planet this is to raise children on, trapped somewhere between the Sand Worms and the Tree Worms.
There's no where to run to, baby.