Ask a Stupid Question

         When my twins were newborn I would occasionally take them places. Sometimes alone, sometimes with my husband. I didn’t like to take them anywhere alone, the things that can happen are frightening and I was content to keep everyone home and remain safer. As it was, I did venture out some. I had a double stroller obviously, not one of those wide ones, mine was in-line but anyway I was asked on various occasions about the two babies. “How far apart are they?” When my reply was that they were two minutes apart more than one old crone had become terrible offended by that comment from me. “Well! You don’t have to be smart about it!” I’d heard a few times. The first time I was quite confused until I got it. She didn’t believe that they were twins. I was stunned. These two babies of equal size and shape, bald and toothless and with the same woman, their mother, and people assumed that I was a mindless breeder or had a newborn and a nine month old. Seriously? Incredible. After the first ridiculous and nosey woman, I was ready. Most people were kind and interested as well as interesting but there are those few that are asking because they smell scandal or something of a questionable nature. I am quite direct and very forward in dealing with people so some got a decidedly upfront and in-your-face answer when asking insulting questions about my multiples. Consequently, after dealing with the first hag’s questioning and becoming insulted by my truthful answer, to her I merely said “But they’re twins.”  After that when I said my children were two minutes apart and I received snotty feedback I simply said “Why yes they really are two minutes apart. You see one doctor ripped one from this side and another doctor ripped the other from this side as I was strapped to a table and cut wide open.” I provided sweeping hand gestures to go with the description. They got the point that I was not amused by their assumptions and walked away with their heads hanging. And rightly so. Ignorant.

 

            On the other side of the insulting questions are the charming and adorable questions or statements from people, namely other parents of multiples. When my husband and I took our brand new babies to their very first checkup they were a wee three months old. As I walked through the waiting room when our name was called a short little lady, in her eighties was my guess, grasped my elbow and said to me “My twins will be sixty-eight at the end of the month.” That made me ache deep in my heart and I will never forget it. Another lady at a store stopped me and said that her twins were nearly fifty-eight. When the little boys were about one year-old we decided that our older son needed a little vacation since having two babies in the house was stressful for all of us. We took him to St. Louis to the zoo, to Six Flags and ultimately to the beautiful Gateway Arch. When we were at the zoo we were taking in the sea lion show which for us, lasted about 3.5 minutes. We put Alex near the exit where we could see him and took the twins outside the gate to wander around and be rowdy out there rather than ruin the show for everyone else in the theater. As the show ended a woman walked out holding hands with two kids that looked to be about five years-old, as she walked past me she said “It gets easier” and continued on her way. I took strength from that statement and felt that if she could live to tell it, so could I.