It starts almost from the moment they open their eyes. When they wake in their separate rooms, they quickly find their way to each other almost by magnetic force. And then IT begins.
It’s not a loud banter but a “scratching the chalk board” type of sound that emerges from their small unassuming heads.
It’s inssesent. It’s painful. It’s un-ending.
“I am the first one to bathroom.”
“First one to get dressed is the winner”
MOMMY SHE’S TEASING ME
“First one to get downstairs is the loser. Last one downstairs is the fairer” (i am not sure what this means)
“My orange juice is healthier than yours”
MOMMY HE’S BOTHERING ME
“The sun is shining in the window closer to me than you.”
“My Cheerios are still floating and yours aren’t.”
Not even the soft sweet chirping birds sit in our trees anymore. I am sure they have found a quieter tree in front of someone else’s home. My husband and I can seek refuge at our office, but their quarrels find us there too now that they know how to dial the phone. There are few places left to hide.
Together, they are a force to be recokened with. But ironically, when they are alone they ask when their sibling will return.