Twins (I read it I didn't write it)

There's two to wash
There's two to dry,
There's two to argue
There's two to cry.

One's in the mud
Having a ball.
The other holds a crayon
Another marked wall.

Some days seems endless
My patients 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.

(Poem From Twins Poetry Website and found in a TMOM's newsletter)

Mine aren't old enough to cause too much trouble, but reading this poem reminds me of Jackson. He causes more trouble then any set of multiples could ever imagine. I'm afraid of what he will teach the other 2 boys. ;-D