Any mother of twins, whatever their age, will
remember these years.
Twins
There are two to wash, two to dry
Two who argue and two who cry
One's in the mud, having a ball
The other holds a crayon, marking the wall
Some days seem endless
My patience grows thin
Why was I chosen to be a mother of twins?
The answer comes clear at the end of the day
As I tuck them in bed and to myself say,
"There's two to kiss and two to hug
And best of all~there's two to love!"
Author Unknown
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