I came home from the Rascal Flatts show last night to quite the party in my kitchen.

No invited guests, just my husband and two boys laughing hysterically. Laughing so hard that Greg had hiccups, watching Griffin and Hayden dance around in Harry Potter glasses that they received from a friend’s birthday party.

The boys also insisted on wearing the oversized glasses inside a sporting goods store…hey, they get it honest…remember Greg and the football helmet in the drive-thru? Back to the story, the three had been fishing earlier in the evening, and somehow Griffin’s hook got caught on Hayden’s shorts, leaving my 5-year-old no choice but to fish in his underwear.

Better that it happened to him and not my husband. Not sure nearby families going for a walk would appreciate THAT view.

And so there stood my son in our kitchen, oblivious to the fact that he was in his skivvies, proudly describing the nine fish he caught, including the one who lost an eye when they pulled out the hook. Sure, it was past 10 o’clock and Greg hadn’t thought twice about bedtime snacks, but they were having a good time. Not a care in the world. Boys being boys.

And that’s what life is all about.