“Are they twins?”

The inevitable question.  I know that it is generally coming from well-meaning people who want to acknowledge that there is something unique about L and S but don’t know what else to say.  It just gets old after you’ve answered the oh-so-obvious 1,000 times.

 

There are all kinds of snarky answers that other twin parents have tried but none of them have really felt right for me.  So I normally just say yes and thank the person for any follow-up compliments.  The hardest is when I need to get something done and the person wants to play 24,000 questions with me.

 

Are they twins?  Yes.
Are they identical?  No.
How do you tell them apart?  Different hair, different eyes, different body shapes, different colored clothing, in a pinch – nail polish.  I had 9 months to be paranoid that I would mix up my own children.  I prepared well.
Is it a boy and a girl?…

 

I hate hate HATE that last question.  And I know it’s not strictly a twin phenomenon because V got called a boy all the time when she was in that late infancy/early toddlerhood phase – no matter how much pink or purple she was wearing.  I think it irks me even more with the twins because of the inevitable followup of “3 girls”.  But I digress.

 

…Nope, 2  girls. 
You have your hands full!  We sure do.  (More filler from Captain Obvious but normally fairly accurate.)

Do twins run in your family?  Yes.  Oh, are they on your side or his side?  Actually, for it to run in the family, it has to be on the mother’s side.  *Glaze-eyed stare.*  Yes, my side.
My sister’s friend’s mother’s housekeeper has twins too!  Uh-huh.

 

Suffice it to say, this is probably the perfect t-shirt for me at this stage of life.

 
To make matters worse, I find most normal social settings uncomfortable, at best.  So God saw fit to give me twins and make it impossible for me to take my kids in the mall for 5 minutes without at least one stranger wanting to strike up a conversation.  Touche, God.  Touche.
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