There's two to wash, there's two to dry,
There's two who argue, there's two who cry. One's in the mud having a ball,
 One's in the mud having a ball,
The other holds a crayon, marking the wall. Some days seem endless, my patience grows thin.
 Some days seem endless, my patience grows thin.
Why was I chosen to be a mother of twins?
 The answer comes clear at the end of each day,
 The answer comes clear at the end of each day, As I tuck them in bed and to myself say,
 As I tuck them in bed and to myself say,   There's two to kiss, there's two to hug,
There's two to kiss, there's two to hug,  And best of all, there's two to love!
 And best of all, there's two to love!  -Author Unknown
 -Author Unknown
There's two who argue, there's two who cry.
The other holds a crayon, marking the wall.
Why was I chosen to be a mother of twins?
 
 
 

 
 
 
 
 
 
1 comment:
LOVE it and oh so true!
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