Guys Need Dolls

Three of the boys were home tonight and spent fifteen minutes talking about breathing.  You know, how fast, why do we make sound when we breath, the correct way, and the ridiculousness of spending so much time on the topic of breathing.  We spent twenty minutes figuring out what to eat other than string cheese, spent five minutes flying a remote-controlled helicopter, raced each other down the stairs to get 10 lbs. of chicken out of the freezer,  chased Kiley around in a circle for ten minutes, worked on a crossword puzzle for ten minutes, talked for five minutes about girls, challenged each other to be as amazing as the mice living in our house and jump on top of the kitchen counter, joked about being strippers, practiced climbing by doing pull-ups on the door trim, read the newspaper (real news for Chaz, sports for me) and magazine (Rolling Stone for Pete) over dinner (no conversation), and spent fifteen minutes in silence, discussing (we asked the question and nothing else was said for a long while) what we would do with the evening.  

We came to one conclusion: it's a good thing we have 7 other people (6 girls) living with us most of the time.