The Twin Tornado are in a contest.
The good news is, one of them is guaranteed to win, and the other will come a place.
That’s because it’s only them in this never-ending competition.
Now that they’ve reached the ripe old age of 3 ½ they are aware of the concept of being first, of winning. No idea where they got that from since the rest of the family never ever wins, or comes first (except for #1Hubby when…nevermind…).
We celebrate a place the way alpha families celebrate a win. Even 4th place. As evidenced by my Principal's Award from last year, and my Netball Tryhard Trophy of 1990 that both have pride of place on the otherwise vacant section of shelving dedicated to family achievements.
But enough about my history of awesomeness. Back to the twins’ competition, which is played out in everyday pursuits.
This shits me to tears because it means we do everything twice. EVERYTHING.
- Opening and closing doors
- Slamming doors
- Locking doors
- Flushing toilets
- Handing Mummy toilet paper when we bust in on her mid-stream
- Putting the lid on the toothpaste
- Seeing who can scream ‘shed words’ the loudest. In public.
- Picking noses
- Trying to pick Mummy’s nose when theirs are given the ‘all-clear’
- Sneezing / faux sneezing, AKA spitting and blowing raspberries to mimic a sneeze. Usually in Mummy’s face – how else can the winner be judged?
- Running away from me in the middle of a crowded shopping centre. Always in opposite directions.
- Trashing the toy room via twin Toy Mount Everest’s
- Wearing each other’s shoes and clothes to irritate the owner
- Eating crayons (a competition of volume and speed, like any good eating contest)
And the list goes on and on.
Not only am I going through an obscene amount of toilet paper, but I’m also being subject to far too many bodily fluids, and losing my voice from endless refereeing.
I need a black and white striped shirt and a whistle.
|I just know I'd rock the black and white look. Almost exactly like this. Ahem.|
I should start taking bets on who will come out on top. Especially since I have the inside word on one particular contest that Miss3 is about to win – she’s passing their current stage of swimming lessons, but Mstr3 requires another term.
Dum-dum-dummmmm….oh the drama!
I’m offering Miss3 at 2:1 and Mstr3 at 8:1 in case anyone is interested.
As my Darling girls are only 15 months apart, it's almost like having twins. So I empathise with you regarding the never ending competition (although no crayon eating over here). I lost my willingness to referee long ago and instead reply, "Battle it out yourself." I have no idea what long term impact this will have on my daughters, but frankly I don't really care.....they can sort that out themselves.ReplyDelete
I'm not sure that your referee outfit would help solve #1Hubby's.. um... desire to win. :)ReplyDelete
At least you don't have to include dolls. Ashleigh won't do anything unless her dolls do it first. All four of them. Aaaargh.ReplyDelete
True. But it may work in refereeing him when coupled with some false promisesReplyDelete
I'm waiting for that stage. We're already up to blaming Elmo and Barbie for any and all carnage.ReplyDelete
I have to say, I'm not sure if 15 months apart is like twins in this respect. I'm assumg that, at least with even that much age difference, one is a bit older/bigger/stronger to some extent. There's one who will generally be faster/better/bigger in all contests. These two go on FOREVER until one of them wins. Drives me nuts. I don't really care either - except for when they both demand to come to the toilet with me and pass me equal portions of toilet paper when the time requires it. Enough is enough.ReplyDelete
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