Reminds me of when our 30-year-old daughhter and 28- and 25-year-old sons were about 7, 5 and 2 respectively, and my wife and I left them with my younger brother Paul to go out one evening.

When we got back home at about 1 am, the kids were wide awake, and Paul was stretched out on the sofa, snoring loudly.

One of the dining room chairs was perched atop the table, and torn strips of newspaper had been taped as "streamers" to the blades of the ceiling fan, which was spinning at top speed.

"What the hell is going on here??!?!?!?!?"

"We're having a disco!"