The Measles? or the Mumps?

For those of you who have twins you know that under absolutely NO circumstances do you leave them alone for more than thirty seconds. No, it's really not for the sake of their safety. I can proudly admit that my kids generally know not to stick metal things into electric outlets (though there was that one time that Jackson ... never mind) or things up their noses (though there was that one time Emma pulled a piece off her necklace and shoved it ... never mind) or ... Gosh, I guess Nicholas is the only one who didn't do dumb stuff most other kids have done. Regardless, the first rule of twinhood is NOT to not talk about twinhood, it's to never leave them unsupervised at the mercy of their curiosity, intelligence or, most importantly, their boredom.

As a parent of twins I constantly hear stories from random aunts, or grandparents or sons of sons of sons of twins, or I-have-twins-on-my-mother's-father's-sister's-cousin's-niece's-nephew's-daughter's-aunt's side, but I am sometimes lucky enough to hear a story right from the mouth of a twin and that, folks, is the best advice I can hear. I knew a twin in Sicily who told me escapades about things she and her sister did, and frankly, I'm a little scared. I try (read: TRY) not to leave them unattended and I suffer periodic heart palpitations whenever I'm in another room while they're playing -- quietly. Because silence meets they're up to absolutely no good whatsoever.

This is exactly how fast it happens: Picture this ... I am fixing dinner as they are coloring with markers (you know where this is going) at the kitchen table and I figure I'm technically in the same room so I can focus on whatever bizarre concoction Forrest has requested for that night. Fine, right? So, I come out of my stupor of grating jalapenos (who does this?!) to hear nothing. That's right. Silence. I turn around and Emma has taken a blood red marker and given herself a healthy, but not contagious, dose of raging spotty measles up one arm and right down the other. Monkey-see, monkey do-do, right? Except instead of red, Jackson's measles are superman blue. This is a benign example, and hardly worth even raising my voice, but I'm trembling at the thought of (true story) Jackson dumping a bottle of soap down the toilet, preparing to flush and saying, "Hey, Emma, come watch THIS!"

Laugh, folks. If I don't laugh, I cry.