Uh-oh...

First it hit my youngest (which is almost a moot point when talking about identical twins born within the same 60 seconds), the Jelly first, then it hit me, then my wife. We can only hope that the Peanut Butter is spared.

What am I talking about?

Stomach flu. The 24 -(give or take an extra hour or two) hour variety.

I'll be back tomorrow... I hope...

To prevent you from having withdrawals from my writing's and teaching's, read this classic post from August 27th... I laughed, I cried, it became a part of me.

My twins are getting bigger every day, and older. And as they are growing older, they can now speak in complex (for a three-year old anyway) sentences. This has given them new ways of communicating with me and with each other (though the latter was never a problem – gotta love twin language). It's interesting to hear the thoughts running through their heads that were previously unknown to us. Now, instead of just bouncing around in their head, they say it…and sometimes, what they say can be an absolute doozy. The other day, while my wife, the girls and I were in the SUV (I know, but at least it’s not a minivan), one of them said, out of the blue: ‘daddy laid a big turd.’

Ooookayyyy. Where that came from, I have no idea, but there it was…out in the open.

(Now, some of you may be asking where a three-year old learned the word ‘turd’ from. That, sad to say, is my fault. During potty training one day, after one of them had successfully ‘gone potty’ in the toilet, I told her she had laid a big turd. Before I could stop myself from saying the word – they had it memorized and it has been in both of their lexicons ever since. They never remember the words you want them to remember, but they certainly do remember the ones you don’t want them to hear, much less remember, instantaneously.)

The other day, while I was busy getting ready for work and trying to help my wife get them ready for daycare, I told one of them to please hurry up because we have to leave soon. One of them responded by saying: "Drink your coffee, daddy."

It escaped me at that time, but I then realized that I had just been ‘sassed’ and put in my place…by a three year old.

Ouch.

I’ve always been a bit of a smart-ass (people who know me that read this column are saying to themselves: A BIT???), and my wife had really been hoping that our daughters would not inherit that trait from me.

Evidently, no such luck.

They are well on their way to becoming ‘world-class smart-asses’ like their father.

Better that than a Republican.