OK so this all started when I was folding a giant basket of twin clothes. They wear tons of clothes everyday in the summer, and not all that few in the winter, depending upon spills and so forth. One dress Esme was wearing was fine until she found a little loose thread - and pulled and pulled and pulled, and finally the dress was so bunched up that Rebecca had to return it. I couldn't fix it at all. Well Esme acted like the dress was contaminated.

Her mama seems surprised by how fussy the twins are about such things but she was exactly the same way. A loose thread would make her frantic. If I accidentally forgot myself and removed the sticky but easily removed namebrand sticker from the front of most of her shirts, she would blow her little girl gaskets - she just loved doing that herself. And always did it herself. And sometimes spent most of the day sticking it back on and unsticking it and repeating this. I was the luckiest mother in the world, because Rebecca would entertain herself doing things like this forever.

I thought she was retarded. Sorry, when I came into the world that was an OK thing to be. Like crazy. Now people like me have mental illnesses and the children who are a bit slower for one reason or another - I guess they are called ??? a bit slower??? Challenged? It was a lot of fun when we were kids, running around and pointing at each other and screaming "Retard"! We liked insulting each other - no sensitivity whatsoever, and yet we would laugh so hard and run so hard after each other that by the end of the day we were exhausted. In addition to all the combined duties of annoying adults.

Thinking back very hard, this was about one part of my life. It was, carefully sorting through the Swiss cheese of my age-appropriate brain (I just created this P.C. phrase, and you'd better remember you read it here!) a zig in the zag of a pretty quiet childhood.

Anyway, Baya and Esme love playing dress-up and when they saw those towels, they immediately wanted to play - I thought it was a wonderful idea, and grabbed my camera right away; when they started watching a DVD, and then holding toes, I couldn't help but reflect on how special twins are, and how strong their bond is. I was thinking that I hope the current thought is not to separate twins in school. They are so special, as I said.

There is a little movie I have, and ZZ has just hit Baya with her cell phone and I am asking her to apologize to Baya, and after I ask her three times, and she has totally ignored me, Baya turns to me with a look of what? protection towards ZZ, ?lack of care about the incident, ?wants me to stop requesting anything of HER sister, and it is the last that feels the most likely, by the look on her face. Determined and unsmiling, as she says something that sounds like "Nana, go". In other words, leave it. I am OK with being bonked on the head - ZZ does things like that all the time. But don't you go thinking you can march in and force her to say she is sorry.

Tell you what. I really respect these little girls. They are quite loyal to one another. Amazing little friends, and always sisters. What a special pair these two are, and of course I am prejudiced I am their nana and they most of the time - 99% of the time - say wonderful things to me. Once ZZ absolutely for sure told me: Nana, I do not love you. Crush me with a ton of boulders. Oh I said breezily, don't worry, I love you enough for both of us. That didn't make sense, but sounded good, but still, that little angel looked me dead square in the eyes and repeated it, in case I didn't understand, I guess. Ouch X two.

Next morning, the phone rings, and it is Rebecca, and ZZ wants to talk to me. Wow she hardly likes to talk much on the phone... Nana? Hi sweet little ZZ, this is Nana, I love You - Hiya, how are you??? Esme: Nana???, Nana: Yup? Esme: Nana, I love you. Nana, Of course you do sweet angel - nana knows that you do, you are nanas' little buttercup, precious angel and cookie too. Esme: giggle giggle giggle etc... Esme: Nana, are you coming to see me and see Baya and see mama and see daddy and and and etc... when Esme gets going it is hard to remember I am not talking to a very little adult who has major control issues.

Keep control issues in mind, and I will move to todays' post, and prove I can write about more than my lovely adored family. I've got some friends too. And another adventure or two...