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;
The other holds a crayon… Another marked wall.
Some days seem endless, My patience grows thin.
Why did God choose me 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 I say…
There’s two to kiss, There’s two to hug;
And best of all, Thank You, God, for two to love
(...and for the other six, as well! So blessed!)
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