On Sunday we became kids again.

After Sunday School, a dozen of us went to the local chicken diner. Not only was the place a genuine family-run restaurant, but it looked like a 1970s throwback, bringing us back to a time when bell-bottoms, folk music, and long shaggy hair were trendy. The pastor was there, with his wife and four kids, and as the children screamed and giggled when we teased them, we too felt like kids at our favorite restaurant on a Sunday afternoon.

We played card games till the sun went down. We screamed and yelled until our sides hurt as we sat around on the floor hurtling insults at each other, laughing at our silliness, and concentrating hard when it was our turn. Bang! Five! Two! Three! Spoons!! I broke a nail!! You're a P-I-G!!!

We watched old Jackie Chan films, impersonating the voice overs and laughing at the cheesy music.

We stood and sat around in relative silence, savoring and slurping fudgsicles.

Eighteen grown-ups that for a moment forgot the world around them and became kids again.