After dinner at the O.G. (Olive Garden for the uninitiated) we got back home in time for the boys and I to play a little football. The oldest loves to dive in the grass. I think the football was just the right excuse (as opposed to an object meant to actually be caught). Then we just tried to tackle each other until our fingers were blue and we couldn't speak from laughing too hard.
As soon as I got home, I wanted to call my dad to tell him about how it was just like when I was a kid. Alas. If you believe in this kind of thing, I think he was watching.