Last night we had a bachelor party for my friend Devin. Devin has always been one for goofy fun, so we kicked off the evening by going out to a field and playing a game of whiffleball (complete with ghost runners), but instead of a whiffleball and bat, we had a Louisville slugger and a mini-soccer ball. We ended up with four teams and basically made up the rules as we went along. Since I’ve got a fractured arm, I kicked a kickball instead of batting.

We were like a bunch of kids out there, amusing ourselves with nothing but a couple of toys and a game that had changing rules. For a little while the concerns of adulthood went out the window, and we just had fun playing.

[Update] Ok, apparently I didn’t proof this one closely enough, so I had to fix a couple of grammar/style issues (twice). I was being too child-like when writing this one.