Frat-two smiles, taps her cheek, and warns, “You’re gonna miss this face!” As I think back over the last eighteen years, I think she’s probably right. Frat-one says he craves his own space and wants to live at least three hours from his twin. The frats are graduating from high school this year and have decided to attend different colleges. Frat-two’s a writer…she just doesn’t know it yet. After all, I still played with imaginary friends in my closet at her age. So, your mom and dad agreed you could skip?” She pulled up a chair, hopped on the seat, and announced. One day when she was seven she found me alone in the kitchen. Frat-one could’ve nailed those obstacle courses at four years old.įrat-two is our whimsical child who often entertains us with her imaginative and unique takes on the world. I pfff every time I watch American Ninja Warrior. Thankfully, Mom only required five stitches. Once, when my daughter-in-law opened the laundry shoot to throw in a wet towel, Frat-one, splayed like a perfect five-point star, poked his head through the opening. Junior’s son, Frat-one, is a Spiderman clone and ramped up his dad’s penchant for hanging on short, frayed ropes to the tenth power. Lots of kids are climbers my husband claims a crib for his oldest son was a waste of money, and I believe him. The fraternal twins, a boy, and a girl, nicknamed the Frats, were complete and utter opposites. But after the twins’ arrival, my daughter-in-law’s position on overnight stays at Papa and Nana’s house morphed into-have suitcase, will travel. Plus, I had to swear a blood oath to review my grandparent’s instruction guide for feeding and bathing and go over the list of acceptable books to read to them. Now, with four children under the age of five, she got REALLY organized.īefore the twins were born, in order to see the two older girls, I was required to call two weeks in advance and get on their schedule. This is the same woman who’d delivered a handwritten, ten-page, step-by-step, how-to guide to everyone in her wedding party. Once the twins were born, she lived and breathed list, list, and more lists. But his wife, already a bit of an OCD-Type-A-personality, was another matter. He’s the kind of guy who rolls loose and easy after that day, he didn’t let another baby or two interrupt his cool-man vibe. That was the first and last time I remember seeing Junior in shock. In case you didn’t know, the Japanese line up right behind the Brits for wry humor. Scrambled eggs seasoned with a hundred mini-bug-eyed fish, a dish the hotel touted as Breakfast Americana. I wasn’t completely sure if his pale, clammy skin and pupils the size of quarters stemmed from a night soaking in the news his third and forth bambinos would arrive simultaneously or from eyeing his breakfast plate. The next morning, we met Junior for breakfast and found him gripping the table as if the fear of moving an inch would result in him careening off the earth’s axis. Junior had joined us on our business trip and learned of his impending double-bundles of joy when he called his wife back in the States. My husband and I were in Tokyo the day we learned the oldest son and his wife were expecting twins.
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