Thing One and Thing Two

My twin boys are crazy. They are two years old. They never stop moving. You have to keep an eye on them every second of every day or they’ll pull out every pot and pan in the house, scrape the paint and varnish off furniture, try to swing from the curtains bending and breaking the rod, kick a tidal wave of water on you during bath time, rearrange your furniture, get naked…

From what I hear, this is a normal part of development. I pretty much spend my day picking up toys, rolling my eyes, cursing under my breath and in the end…laughing a lot. It’s insane and exhausting, but it’s pretty aweing how much terror they can inflict in minutes.

We were at the car dealership weeks ago and the kids were running loose. They were touching insanely expensive vehicles, crawling on the floor acting like cats, chasing each other, laughing, hitting each other…the usual. I was walking them to the bathroom for the five thousandth time when a lady who had seen the whole thing said my kids reminded her of Thing one and Thing Two.

I’m still not entirely sure whether it was an insult because she wasn’t laughing at all, but I totally got it. They are Thing One and Thing Two.