There's two to wash, there's two to dry,
There's two who argue, there's two who cry.
One's in the mud having a ball,
The other holds a crayon, another marked 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 each day,
As I tuck them in bed and to myself say,
There's two to kiss, there's two to hug,
And best of all, there's two to love!
Being A Twin
Always being a twin,
We both thought we could win.
Even though we were the same,
Means we were both to blame.
And there were always things one dislikes,
But they always had to be alike.
People always look at us a pair,
But never did they compare.
We would always play tricks,
Sometimes it was something we couldn't fix.
Even in early days of school,
We both would play with the teacher oh so cool.
It didn't matter what we would wear,
Because we always had to share.
We were both the same height.
Sometimes looking like a copyright.
Even though we are both now getting old,
We still have an image to uphold.
~Amanda J. Cook
Your lovely bouncing baby twins
Will bring you so much pleasure
And over the years will give you
Such memories to treasure