"There are two to wash, two to dry.
Two who argue and two who cry.
One's in the mud having a ball, the
others holding a crayon marking the wall.
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 the day,
as i tuck them in bed and to myself say,
"there......'s two to kiss and two to hug and best of all there's two to love."
Så herlig et dikt!
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