Twin Envy

Fiona was being a wee bit fussy last night, so off I went, twins in stroller, for a jaunt around the neighbourhood. Off we went push push push for 35 minutes. It was the first time I’d been out by myself with my nieces and I felt pretty darn special. I kept hoping to run into people I knew so I could show off the one-two punch of cute overload that is FiFi and the Roo.

What I can tell you is that people are fascinated by twins. All the women I passed, and several of the men, snuck peeks in the stroller. Most also gave me encouraging looks and smiles, but some looked rather stricken and avoided my eyes. I imagine they were the parents of unpleasant babies whose nightmare is double the unpleasant baby-ness.

One woman shouted at me from a fourth floor balcony: “Oh, look! Look at them! Beautiful! They’re twins! Oh! You are having a hard time now, I know, but very soon you will have two best friends.” I waved and shouted thank you, thinking Lady, you have no idea.

I think just after the babies came home from the hospital, Grace and Greg were having some work done on their house, as you do when you’ve just started a family. What was kind of okay for two adults is often not even close to par for the tiny humans you’ve been entrusted with.

The Grs live in the cutest cottagey house. It’s got hardwood floors and soft light filtered through big bushes and crazy triffid plants in the side and back yards. They’ve got a cozy cozy living area with low ceilings and white walls. Greg, who is very tall and slim, towers in their living room. Hell, I seem pretty big in their living room.

I can’t remember what work needed doing, but it involved at least one very burly fireman inspecting their house. Now, a very burly fireman, one would assume, must have at least grown accustomed to the idea of running into burning buildings and thus putting himself in grave danger. Even if he has never done it, that is what he is trained to do, besides poking about various rooms in the house while Grace tended to Ruby and Fiona.

“They’re twins?” he said.

Why people ask this, when the answer is pretty obvious, is beyond us all. Sighing, Grace looked up from her 4.5 pound baby and replied. “Yes, they’re twins.”

“My wife is pregnant. I’m terrified it’s twins. Terrified.” He gave my nieces the hairy eyeball and kept his distance. “Terrified.”

He continued his inspection, looming about, giving the babies a wide birth, and muttering “Terrifying” every time he passed them. Perhaps had they been on fire, he would have been less scared.